


Arcadia Found

by nerdytf84fan



Series: Arcadia for Modernists [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Kinda?, M/M, One Shot Collection, Rating May Change, Slice of Life, also still no tuberculosis, happy endings only, sometimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-01-26 05:44:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 44,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21369118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdytf84fan/pseuds/nerdytf84fan
Summary: Just Albert and Arthur living their lives in Arcadia, and there's never a dull moment.Warning: this takes place AFTER my fic "Quest for Arcadia", which I would highly recommend reading first!
Relationships: Abigail Roberts Marston/John Marston, Albert Mason & Charles Smith (Red Dead Redemption), Albert Mason/Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan & Charles Smith, John Marston & Arthur Morgan
Series: Arcadia for Modernists [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540522
Comments: 47
Kudos: 94





	1. The Social Call

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy friends!
> 
> This is just a series of one-shots and ideas that were too good not to write. I have my two friends, Caps_Kat and toadmaniaboy, to thank for their wonderful support and ideas! Also, a special thanks to Caps_Kat for being willing to ramble on with me about this modern nonsense! 
> 
> Thanks for stopping by and I hope you enjoy the read!

Arthur wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand as he straightened himself. He didn’t like the fact that he’d broken a sweat despite the cool March air, and he frowned as he stared at the stack of horse feed bags he’d moved. Manual labor used to be easy for him. There was a time when he could lift two hundred pounds without a problem. Yet here he was, trying to catch his breath after moving two dozen, fifty-pound bags. His nose wrinkled in a scowl. Rebuilding the muscle he once took pride in was taking him longer than he imagined. Arthur had hoped that working as a ranch hand would speed up the process, but it only made his slow results all the more frustrating.

The horse in the stall behind him nuzzled the side of his head, breathing out a snort against his ear and simultaneously knocking the black gambler hat off his head. A wide smile replaced his frown, and he turned to stroke the white blaze that ran down the mare’s face. 

“I’m gettin’ caught up in my thoughts again, aren’t I?” He quietly asked her.

The mare shook her head before pushing her nose back into his hand.

He chuckled to himself. “You know me too well, Boadicea.” 

After one last pat on her nose, he picked up his hat and made his way over to a rake to start mucking the empty stalls. 

“She really likes you,” 

He jumped, dropping the rake as he turned to see Kieran leaning against the opened barn door. “Shit, Kieran! Someone really oughtta put a bell on you. Damn near scared me to death!” 

Kieran offered an apologetic smile as he scratched the back of his head. “Sorry.”

“As you should be,” he grumbled.

“You know,” he started as he picked up the rake and handed it to Arthur, “you could take her out for a ride whenever you want. It’s part of the job description anyway. It’s good for these horses to get out casually every once in a while, especially with riders they know.”

“Is that so?” 

“Yeah, you just have to check the schedule first to make sure they ain’t going on any trail rides,”

“Well, I’ll have to keep that in mind,” he said as he entered a vacant stall.

“You ever ridden a horse before?” Kieran asked as he rolled a wheelbarrow over.

“Only once or twice,”

“Really?”

He glanced at him over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “You sound surprised.”

“I-I didn’t mean nothin’ by it! It’s just that you work so well with them for not being around them much, is all.”

Arthur only replied with a grunt as he carried on.

When he finished, he said goodbye to Kieran and walked over to his truck he’d parked up the gravel driveway. He grimaced as he sat behind the wheel. An ache had already started in his arms and had started to spread from his shoulders down his back from his heavy lifting for that day. He sighed and let his head fall back against the headrest as he closed his eyes. Truthfully, he could’ve fallen asleep right then and there. This was his fourth week working as a ranch hand, and his second working full time. Albert had insisted that he take it slow, had even pleaded for Arthur to at least mention he'd had major surgery about three months ago. For once, Arthur had given into the simple requests without protest. It was the least he could do after all the photographer had done for him.

The ringing of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. He pulled it out of his vest pocket and answered it while keeping his eyes closed.

"Hello?"

"How was work today, Arthur?"

It was Albert, and Arthur furrowed his brow at the edge he heard in his voice. "Fine, is everything alright?"

"Oh, yes, definitely! Just thought I'd check in."

"Then why are you nervous?"

He heard him sputter on the other end. "N-nervous? I'm not nervous!"

"Al…"

"Are you on your way home?"

"Just about," he replied slowly as he felt his chest tighten with worry, "there's somethin' you ain't telling me. Did the law show up?"

"Oh heavens no! Listen, everything is fine, I promise. I'll explain myself when you get here."

"Fine," he sighed, "see you in twenty."

Albert fidgeted with his hands as he looked over the living room once more. He'd spent most of the day cleaning and straightening up the house, although it was hardly dirty in the first place. He heard the front door open, and he turned to find Arthur walking in. As he hung his jacket on the coat rack, Albert couldn't help but notice the stiffness in his movements. He frowned, quickly forgetting his present worries.

"What happened to taking it easy?" He asked. His tone was sharper than he'd intended it to be, and he blamed it on the edgy feeling he'd been fighting all day.

The corner of Arthur’s mouth quirked upwards as he gave him a once-over look, half wondering if he was joking. “It’s manual labor, Al. I’m gonna be sore no matter what I do for a while. Did something crawl up your ass while I was gone?” 

“Of course not!”

“Then what’s gotten into you? You ain’t quite yourself.”

Albert sighed. He had to tell Arthur the news eventually, and he fidgeted with the cuff of his flannel as he chose his words carefully. “For the last month, my sister has talked about visiting. I thought she was joking until she mentioned she was flying out this way this morning.”

Arthur tensed. “When’s she arriving?”

“Sometime this evening? She wasn’t sure.” He replied. “She’s not the most detail-oriented person, unfortunately.”

“So that’s why the house looks immaculate.” He chuckled to himself before looking up at Albert. There was something that flickered behind his eyes as his smile dropped ever so slightly. “Does she know about me?”

Albert rubbed the back of his neck. “She does. In fact, she knows more about you than my parents do. Heather’s always been more understanding than them.”

He relaxed at that and opened his mouth to respond when Albert’s phone rang. The photographer was quick to answer it, and Arthur smiled to himself as he made his way into the kitchen to grab something to eat. Albert had something in the oven, he could tell by the savory smell that hung in the air. It made him realize how hungry he was, yet as he opened a cupboard, he heard Albert call his name.

“Don’t eat anything too heavy, dear, dinner’s in less than an hour. Heather has just landed and I’m heading over now to pick her up.” 

Arthur muttered under his breath with a sigh and shut the cupboard and watched him try to put on his jacket while holding his phone between his cheek and shoulder. Rolling his eyes, he made his way over and helped him by holding onto his phone as he got his arms into the sleeves. He heard laughter on the other end of the line, and Albert frowned as he took the phone out of Arthur’s hand.

“It’s not funny!” He huffed. “And no, my love life is nothing like a gay Hallmark Movie!”

“It kinda is,” Arthur said, making sure he was loud enough for Heather to hear.

Albert shot him a look, and while his intention may have been to deter Arthur from encouraging his sister, Arthur only grinned and gave him a peck on the cheek before making himself comfortable on a couch in the living room.

Albert drew a deep breath as he parked his car along the arrivals curb. He scanned the pedestrians standing idly on the sidewalk. From what he could tell, Heather hadn’t made her way out of the airport yet. He ran a hand through his hair as his heart raced in his chest. It had been a while since he’d last seen her, and he blamed his jitters on both his nerves as well as his excitement. It had been almost a year since the last time they’d visited one another. Between her paralegal job for the DOJ in the D.C. area and all that had happened since October, it had been nearly impossible to see each other despite the mere four hours between Arlington and East Village.

He searched the faces of the bystanders five minutes later and recognized Heather among them this time. She tucked a lock of her brown hair behind her ear and beamed as she recognized the Honda Fit. Quickening her pace, Heather made her way over and placed her suitcase in the hatchback before taking her place in the passenger seat. Despite the awkward angle, she leaned over and pulled him into a tight hug.

“It’s so good to see you, Albie!” She exclaimed. “How many months has it been now since our trip to Philadelphia?” 

“Too many,” he replied as he hugged her just as tightly. “I’ve really missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she said as she pulled away and put on her seatbelt. “Although I’ve been following your photography account. It’s been doing really well! Your photos are always amazing!”

He flashed her a smile before pulling away from the curb. “I’m not so sure if I’d say always but thank you!” 

“I tried showing it to mom for the third time at Christmas,”

Albert tensed. “Oh?”

“You should’ve seen her face. She saw that one picture of Arthur at the museum and _lost it._”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“It was the only thing she could talk about after that, but Jackson and I did our best to ignore her,”

He sighed as he scratched the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, if I had known such news about Arthur and I would be so much trouble for you and your boyfriend, I would’ve waited to tell her. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she insisted, “it wasn’t that troublesome. Hell, _I’m _sorry you’re the one who has to keep putting up with that.”

“I think I’ve gotten over wanting to please our parents by now. Besides, I haven’t quite had the headspace to even worry about their opinions.”

She studied him for a moment. “Is everything alright? I haven’t seen a new photo of Arthur since, well, since that post.”

Albert hesitated as he merged onto Route 24, unsure of how much he should reveal to her about all that had transpired in the last five months. She knew Arthur had undergone major surgery, but he had kept Heather in the dark about the FBI agent and Arthur’s former gang. “Oh, yes, everything’s fine. When we moved out here, I decided to make my account fully dedicated to nature photography. As handsome and stunning as Arthur is, his photos are just simply too disjointing.”

“I see,” she mused, “you’ve always had an artistic eye for that sort of thing.”

He gave her a curious glance. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, usually couples post about their SO nonstop. After seeing nearly ten photos of the guy on your feed in a month, and then seeing _nothing _after, I got a little concerned.” She said. “What have you been doing these last few months, anyway?” 

Albert was grateful for how quickly she had changed the subject and told her about how he was now a freelance photographer while Arthur managed to find a job as a ranch hand. 

“He’s already working again?” Heather asked.

“Yes,” he sighed.

“You’re not nagging him too much about it, right?”

“What do you mean, _nagging?_”

She shrugged. “I know how you get, Albert. Look, all I’m saying is don’t forget he’s first and foremost an individual, not just someone you love. I know December was hard, but you need to trust that he can make his own decisions.”

Albert tightened his grip on the wheel. “I know, I just don’t want to see him hurt again.”

“I get it,” she replied as she squeezed his shoulder, “but you still can’t mother hen him every chance you get.” 

“I hate it when you’re right,” he grinned.

She smiled wide in return. “I often am!”

As they drove along the winding road, Albert found his sister’s reaction to the snow-capped Rockies amusing, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Arthur had felt the same when watching him experience the view of the Ambarino Mountains for the first time. Eventually, Albert took a right onto their driveway and parked the car. 

Heather had to take a double-take at the beautiful home. “How on Earth did you manage to find _and _buy this?” 

“It was between the three of us that we were able to do both,” he replied before exiting the car and taking her suitcase out of the back. Albert led Heather inside, where he found Arthur and Charles chatting in the living room. Arthur looked up, his easy-going smile faltering as he rose to his feet. A smile pulled at the corner of Albert’s mouth as he noticed that Arthur had showered while he was gone. For once, his hair was neatly brushed, and his beard had been tastefully trimmed. Judging from his fresh appearance and his fidgeting, Arthur was nervous, and it was endearing.

Albert set aside the suitcase and walked over to them. “Arthur, Charles, this is Heather. Heather, this is Arthur, as you already know, and this is Charles.”

“It’s nice to finally meet the two of you,” she said.

“Likewise,” Arthur said as he shook her hand after she’d shaken Charles’. 

Heather turned to Albert. “Is that your cooking I smell?” 

“It is! I just have a few things to finish up,” he said as he walked into the kitchen. “Please make yourself at home in the meantime!” 

She nodded to herself and took a seat on the end of the couch by the loveseat Arthur had sat back down in. As Charles took his seat beside her, she gave Arthur a once-over look. She could see how her brother had fallen for him. He was rugged, even with his well-groomed appearance, and despite the faint frown lines between his brows, his eyes were strikingly kind. Heather smiled to herself as he fidgeted with his watch. With her work experience and training, it didn’t take much to see right through him. This man, who undoubtedly had the strength to punch the daylights out of someone his size, was actually _nervous_. Arthur clearly cared about her brother as much as Albert had expressed caring for him, and the thought melted her heart.

After some small talk, she finally decided to say what had been on her mind. “You know, I’ve been waiting to thank you in person, and while I’ve been thinking it over, I still don’t have the words to properly thank you for the many times you’ve saved my brother. I was honestly scared to death when he told me he was taking that trip to Alaska, and if it weren’t for you, he would’ve surely died.”

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes lowered to the floor. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“Oh trust me, I know that for a fact. _You _didn’t grow up with him! He wouldn’t have made it more than three days on his own.” 

He snorted. “Is that right?”

She nodded and pulled out her phone with a smug grin before opening up a photo album of old photos she’d downloaded from her laptop. After scrolling through a few, she pulled up one and showed it to Arthur. It was a photo of when Albert had gotten his head stuck in their iron-wrought gate. He squinted at the picture as he pulled it closer before a gust of laughter escaped him. Her smile widened.

“How the hell did he manage that?” He asked. 

“Don’t know, apparently he said he was trying to say hello to a stray cat. Our mother had to call the fire department to get him out.”

Arthur continued to laugh as he showed the picture to Charles who joined them in their laughter. 

“Oh! And here’s an old video of him being chased by a goat when he was eight.”

By now, she had both of them leaning in to watch the old home video, and Albert looked over his shoulder at the three of them before his eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown. “Heather! Would you stop that?” 

She ignored him as she pulled up another photo of the two of them in their Halloween costumes. Albert was around ten and had dressed up as Woody from Toy Story while Heather was in a Pink Ranger costume. Arthur continued to snicker as Albert made his way over to the back of the couch and tried snagging the phone out of Heather’s hand. 

“I said quit it!” 

“Oh, come on, Albie! It’s just some harmless fun!” She said between bits of laughter as she dodged his arm.

“Albie?” Arthur asked with a wide smirk.

Albert’s cheeks had flushed completely by now as Heather continued to duck away from him. She finally leaped off the couch and stood on the other side of the room as she cackled. 

“Maybe I should go back to Cairn and have that moose end my suffering,” he huffed.

“At least I didn’t show them any bath time photos,” she replied as she tucked her phone back into her back pocket. “Although I’m sure Arthur has already seen it all.”

This time it was Arthur who turned red in the face as Charles awkwardly checked his watch.

“And on that note, I have a meeting I have to go to,” Charles said as he rose from his seat.

“You have a meeting this late in the day?” Heather asked.

“I’m a social worker, and there’s a community meeting that starts in an hour,” he explained as he grabbed his jacket.

“We’ll save you a plate, Charles,” Arthur said. 

He thanked him, bade them goodbye, and left.

The three of them talked a little while longer until the oven’s timer beeped. As they settled down at the kitchen table with their plates of food, Heather couldn’t help but ask about Arthur’s near-death experience. She was genuinely curious, and Arthur hesitated as he carefully thought over his words.

“I used to be part of a gang. One of ‘em didn’t like me so much, so when I left, he took it as his opportunity to try killing me.”

She looked surprised, although not as surprised as Arthur thought she’d be. “Albert never told me you were part of a gang.”

“It ain’t somethin’ I’m proud of,”

“I can just hear mom now,” she said as she pressed the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically, “_oh, Albert, are you giving me an outlaw for an in-law? Oh, good heavens, our reputation has been squandered!”_

Arthur couldn’t help but laugh. “Wouldn’t be my first time being accused of squanderin’ a reputation.”

Albert only rolled his eyes. “Heather—”

“_All that potential of yours has been ruined! What ever shall become of your future?”_

Of course, Arthur knew she was joking and that she meant nothing by it. Heather had given no indication throughout the night that she thought such things. Yet he still felt his heart lurch as her words sank in. Despite the chuckles he was forcing, his thoughts lingered on what she’d said. What was to become of Albert’s future? Did he even have one by uprooting from New York and choosing to stay by his side? There was nothing for Albert to gain by living this quiet life with him in Manitou Springs. Surely he was nothing more than a ball and chain that held him back from living a far better life.

Albert glanced at him before giving his sister a warning look. “Heather, _please_, we get it.”

She held up her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I swear I’m done.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief as he rubbed his face. “Thank you. Arthur, love, why don’t you get the firepit out back started while I get some hot cocoa going?”

Arthur wordlessly nodded and rose to his feet before heading outside. He was only mildly surprised when Heather decided to follow him. 

A bite had returned to the crisp spring air as the sun began to dip behind the mountains. Above them, the cloudless, dusky sky was now flecked with pinpricks of light. As Arthur walked down the deck’s stairs to the fire pit, Heather couldn’t help but stop and stare at the sight. It was mesmerizing. She had grown accustomed to the light pollution in the D.C. area, and not even the far and few remote parts of northern Virginia or Maryland compared to it. The clicking of the fire pit turning on pulled her attention away from the sight, and she rubbed some warmth into her arms as she joined Arthur. 

“This is a nice little backyard area,” she hummed as she took a seat in one of the wooden lawn chairs.

“It was Albert’s idea,” he said as he sat across from her.

Heather smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

The corners of Arthur’s mouth quirked up as he fondly recalled his conversation with Albert. It had been shortly after their visit to the North Pole amusement park when Albert had mentioned several times how nice it would be to have one in their backyard. Of course, Arthur had a cheeky reply waiting by the fourth time he said something and had teased him about only wanting the fire pit so Arthur could kiss him in the firelight more often. It was only partly true, but regardless, he had enjoyed how flustered it had made the photographer.

Arthur stared at the flames as they licked at the glass coals. There was a comfortable silence between them, and he was surprised to find that he didn’t mind her company. In fact, the evening had gone far better than he’d expected it to. The silence lasted for another moment before Heather finally spoke up.

“Have you had Albie’s famous hot chocolate before?” 

He chuckled to himself. “I have, several times. It’s damn good.”

“I don’t know how he does it! I swear it’s all sorcery. Not once has he made a bad batch of it.”

“I believe it,”

She flashed him a smile before tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Her thoughts seemed to wander as her eyebrows drew together while she fidgeted with her stacked rings. The slight change in her countenance worried him. This was their first moment alone, and he could tell there was a question burning at the forefront of her mind.

“Look, Arthur,” she finally sighed, “I’m going to be honest with you. I work for the DOJ, and Albert thinks I work as a paralegal, but what he doesn’t realize is that I work specifically for the FBI.”

Arthur swallowed as he tried to keep himself from stiffening. He wasn’t sure where she was driving the conversation, yet he refused to show the sense of dread that had seized him. “You do?”

“Yes, and I know about Ross, although he doesn't know me. He reports back to one of my subordinates.” Her eyes flicked up to meet his wide ones, and even in the firelight, she could tell that the blood had drained from his face. “I’m sure you can see how my brother has put us both in a tricky situation.”

He looked down at his hands, unsure of what to say.

“What really happened in Richmond?”

“It’s all in the court record if you want to read it,”

She cocked an eyebrow. “My brother might be naive and too honest for his own good, but he’s the farthest thing from a fool. He would have sniffed it out by now had you truly murdered those men.”

He frowned as he looked up at her. “Listen, I appreciate what you’re tryin’ to do, but talkin’ is just gonna turn this into a mess it don't need to be. The dust has already settled, and I’ve dealt with the consequences.”

“But you don’t have to, Arthur! You can get that whole incident expunged from your record!”

He shook his head. “For the safety of everyone, especially your brother, I do. If I talk ‘bout things I’ve sworn to take to the grave, then some mean people are gonna know I ain’t dead.”

“Witness protection will—”

“Too many people have already changed their way of life because of me!” He countered. “I can’t do that to them _again_.”

Heather heaved a sigh, clearly frustrated with Arthur’s stubbornness. “It’s a good thing I’m here as Heather and not Agent Mason, and it’s especially a good thing that Albie loves you so damn much.”

“And he’s a fool for that,”

“Remember what I said earlier. Albert is many things, but he isn’t a fool.”

Arthur shook his head. “How come he didn’t know about you bein’ in the FBI?” 

“About a year ago I moved from the Criminal Division to the Federal Bureau of Investigation. It’s still part of the DOJ, and he never really asked specifically about what I do now, so I never told him.”

“Figures,” he muttered, “should I be worried? Do I need to find a lawyer before I get my ass hauled in for questioning?”

Her brow furrowed at his bristly demeanor. “Of course not! Do you really think I’d do that to my brother?”

“Well—” 

“Are you part of the Dutch van der Linde gang?”

He frowned. “No.”

“Are you affiliated with any _current _members?”

“No,”

“Then I’m not obligated under any circumstances to drag you in for questioning.”

He studied her. Heather’s matter-of-fact tone combined with her understanding baffled him.

"Did you know that Ross questioned Al?" He asked after a moment.

"Trust me, I had eyes on him before he even stepped foot in Manhattan. Ross isn't known for following the book to the letter, and with you being in town, I wasn't sure what he would do."

He nodded and opened his mouth to reply when the sound of the backdoor opening pulled their attention to Albert, who had a tray of hot chocolate in his hands. He had a wide smile on his face as he made his way down the steps, and he set the tray down on a table before handing out the mugs of hot chocolate.

Arthur's gaze flicked up to Heather's face to find she had put on a broad smile that hadn't been there before. It was as if their conversation had never happened as she lightly teased Albert about the number of marshmallows he had in his mug. It was then that it dawned on him how good she was at her job, and knowing that she had the potential to dig and uncover sensitive information left a tight feeling settling in his chest. She had told him she would leave him alone, but what about John? Did the same apply to him? Was she even aware of his whereabouts?

"Are you alright, Arthur?" Albert asked. 

He looked up at him and forced a small grin, painfully knowing it wasn't anywhere near as relaxed as Heather's. "Sure, just tired."

Albert looked at the time on his phone and tsked. "Goodness, I didn't realize how late it was! You don't have to stay up with us, Arthur. Please feel free to head to bed whenever you need to."

He nodded and slowly sipped on his hot chocolate as Heather carried on a conversation with Albert. When he’d finished, he curtly excused himself and went inside to get ready for bed.

Albert furrowed his brow at his abrupt departure. The sudden change in Arthur’s demeanor was concerning. Yet as he recalled Heather’s words from earlier, he decided to give Arthur some space in the meantime. After all, it was almost guaranteed that he would wake up once Albert joined him in bed. He could ask him about it then. 

The two of them finally decided to call it a night around nine o’clock. Heather had started to feel the two-hour time difference by then, and once Albert had helped her get settled in the guest room, he went upstairs and quietly changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He then slid into bed beside Arthur with his chest flush against his back and his arm around his waist. As expected, he heard him breathe out a contented sigh before he rolled over and pulled him close. 

“Is everything alright, love?” Albert asked.

Arthur tucked his head underneath his chin and closed his eyes as Albert's warmth eased the tension from his shoulders. He was quiet for a while before he finally answered. “Peachy.”

“I find that one hard to believe,”

“Are you callin’ me a liar?”

“Heavens no, but I _do_ think there’s something you aren’t telling me,”

Arthur forced a light scoff. “Would you quit worrying about me? Everything’s fine, Al.”

The last thing he wanted to do was create tension between Albert and his sister while she was visiting, especially since they were so close. Arthur would never forgive himself if he got in between the only decent relationship Albert had in his family.

“Was it what Heather said at the dinner table?”

He swallowed but shook his head. While Arthur had promised to be better about telling him the truth, he could at least skirt around his questions, right? “She was only jokin’.”

“Arthur…”

“Me and John joke like that all the time. I’m fine.”

Albert sighed but decided not to press any further. Instead, he simply lifted Arthur’s face from the crook of his neck and kissed him long and slow. He had a feeling Arthur was hiding something, and while there was nothing he could do to force it out of him, he could at least show Arthur how deeply he cared for him. Arthur’s hand slid up along his chest and over his neck until it found the back of his head, his fingers intertwining with his dark locks as he deepened the kiss. Albert smiled, and he had to gently pull Arthur’s hand away to part from him.

“Get some sleep, Arthur, you’ve had a long day,”

Arthur grunted at the loss of contact and muttered under his breath. Yet, he closed his eyes despite his desires and listened as Albert’s breathing became deep and rhythmic. He dared to open his eyes, finding Albert in a deep slumber, and pressed his lips to his cheek before falling asleep himself.

Arthur rubbed his face as he waited for the coffee to finish brewing. It was Heather’s third day staying at their place, and while his body ached, he was grateful that he’d been scheduled to work at the ranch yesterday. It had been long and grueling work, but it was better than being dragged all over the Denver area with Heather. It wasn’t that he didn’t get along with her. In fact, she even reminded him of John and Sadie sometimes. It was her line of work that made his skin itch. When she was around, he felt like he had to watch his every move, as if one misstep might end his new lease on life. Heather had told him on that first night that arresting him wasn’t her intention, but there was a part of him that he couldn’t bring to trust her, and he found himself blaming his upbringing with Dutch and Hosea for ingraining that kind of skepticism into his very being.

“Good morning, Arthur,”

He jumped at hearing Heather’s voice and whirled around to see her adjusting the robe she was wearing. It was Albert’s, and he swallowed as he felt his conflicting feelings resurface. “Mornin’.”

Her eyebrows drew together as she leaned against the kitchen island. “Are you okay?”

“Sure, why do you ask?”

“You’ve been awfully jumpy around me. I thought I told you I wasn’t here to lock you away.”

He sighed. “Let’s just say I ain’t ever had a _good _experience with any kind of law enforcement, and while you say you’re only here as Heather Mason, I can’t help but question if that’s the truth.”

“No offense, but that one is kinda on you,” Heather said as she offered a sympathetic smile. “Everyone has a choice to either follow or break the law.”

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t understand. I wasn’t always a criminal. My father got away with a lot of bullshit, and no one seemed to care enough about it until he killed a few men over some drugs. Even when he was finally arrested, the system left me out to dry. The foster care system was a joke, so when Dutch took me off the streets, it was the best damn thing that had happened to me.”

“The best?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“At the time,” he shrugged, “I wish I had seen him for what he was earlier. He may have taken me in and kept me alive, but joining him wasn’t without its own consequences. I have Albert and Charles to thank for helping me realize I didn’t have to live that sort of life, and it was Albert who gave me the hope that I had the potential to be better.”

“He’s good at inspiring people,” she mused fondly.

“That he is,”

“You know you can trust me, Arthur. I love Albert more than I love my job, and taking you away from him would crush him. Besides, you’re not actively pursuing a life of crime anymore. If anything, you’ve taken a one-eighty turn.” She paused as her gaze turned hard and cold. “But mark my words, if you _ever _deliberately break his heart, there will be absolute hell to pay, and you can guarantee you won’t see a single ray of sunlight ever again.”

Arthur swallowed thickly and nodded, knowing that she meant every word and wouldn’t hesitate to fulfill her promise.

The silence that followed was heavy, and he was relieved when the coffee pot went off a minute later. He removed the pot from the heating plate and paused.

“Are you a coffee drinker?”

“Please, I work in Washington. I drink coffee daily _just _to keep my sanity. If I didn’t, I’d end up with a few murder charges myself!”

He chuckled as he grabbed another mug and poured some coffee into it for her. “Then how about we keep that sanity up? How do you take yours?”

“Just with cream and sugar,”

Arthur handed her the creamer from the fridge as well as the jar of sugar before pouring coffee into his own mug. “You leave today, right?”

She flashed him a smile. “I do. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No, but I can’t help but wonder if you flew out here just to threaten me,”

Heather frowned. “Listen, it’s my job to look out for my brother. I came here because I love him, and I figured it was about time that I met the man who he talks about nonstop.”

He raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his coffee. “You exaggerate.”

“You're not the one getting texts from him at least three times a week!” She insisted as she pulled out her phone. “Last Sunday, ‘Heather, you won’t believe the joke Arthur told me’. Monday, ‘look at this drawing Arthur gave me’. Thursday, ‘should I tell Arthur—”

Arthur furrowed his brow at how abruptly she stopped herself. “Tell me what?”

She shook her head as she put her phone away. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I can’t read the rest of that one.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not my place,” she replied, “anyway, the point is that I didn’t come here just to threaten you or turn your whole world upside down. I genuinely wanted to meet the man who has stolen Albert’s heart. My brother has always been a loner, which has never been good for him, and I’m glad he’s found someone like you.”

Arthur eyed her for a moment as he tried to gauge whether or not she was telling him the truth. Neither of them said a word for a while. It was as if she was letting him scrutinize her. For the first time that weekend, he felt as if she had lowered her walls to show her true self, and what he found was similar to what he saw in Albert. When it came down to it, she was intentional and kind, loyal and honest. Arthur breathed out a sigh of relief. He now had no doubt he could trust her, and his relaxed posture wasn’t lost on her.

Heather smiled as she watched his tension melt away. “So…are we good?”

“I’d say so,” Arthur was surprised to find that he genuinely meant it, and it occurred to him that perhaps it was good for once to have friends in high places. 


	2. An Unexpected Friend

Arthur finished up tightening the girth to the roan’s saddle before turning to Albert with a smile. He was eyeing the horse nervously from where he stood, and Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.

“This is Montie,” he said as he patted the horse's neck.

He gave Montie another once-over look and swallowed. “I’m not so sure how I feel about the look in his eye.”

“Trust me, there ain't no look in his eye. Now _Buell_ is a horse with a look in his eye.” He smiled. “Come ‘ere. I’ll help you get on.”

Albert cautiously made his way over. “Is there a stool I can use?”

“There usually is, but there are some kiddos in the middle of a riding lesson using it right now,”

“Of course there are,” Albert sighed as he inched himself closer to Arthur’s side.

“Now just grab the horn and put your left foot in the stirrup. I’ll give you a boost when you’re ready.”

He nodded, and on the count of three, he attempted to mount the horse. Arthur had expected him to swing his leg over, but Albert’s few seconds of hesitation stole his momentum. Arthur grunted, and as he tried to keep Albert from falling, he found himself with his face flush against his rear. He reacted quickly to keep them both from hitting the ground and placed both hands on his ass to brace him. Albert let out a yelp as Arthur muttered under his breath and pushed him onto the saddle. While Arthur caught his breath, he smirked at the sight of Albert’s flushed face and wide eyes.

“C’mon, Al, that ain’t the first time I’ve grabbed your ass,”

“Yes, but we’re in public! Don’t you have any sense of decency?”

He shrugged before mounting Boadicea. “Only sometimes.”

“So how do you drive this thing?” 

“Drive?” Arthur scoffed. “You mean _ride_. Use the reins to steer, pulling them left or right, depending on where you need to go. This is western, though, so keep the reins in one hand and don’t pull too hard. Give a kick in the sides to get him movin’ and pull back on the reins to tell him to stop. But you won’t need to worry about remembering all that too much. Montie’s good at following.”

Albert breathed out a sigh of relief at that as Arthur led the way out of the barn and onto a trail. He quickly found that Arthur hadn’t been exaggerating about his horse. Montie had no trouble keeping up with the pace Arthur had set, walking alongside Boadicea without protest. 

It was a lovely day, absolutely magnificent in Albert’s opinion. The air was still nippy, but between his sweater and the sun’s warm rays, the temperature was perfect. As Arthur led them through a grassy valley surrounded by tall pines, he couldn’t help but find himself mesmerized by the gorgeous landscape. Scattered among the tall grasses were blooms of wildflowers, and the Rocky Mountains stretched just beyond the pines. 

Albert glanced over at Arthur as he found himself unexpectedly overwhelmed with emotion. Arthur wasn’t always vocal with his affections, but his actions never failed to speak volumes. While Albert had never been trail riding, let alone on the back of a horse, he realized that Arthur knew exactly what he was doing. For Albert, there was nothing quite like taking the time to experience nature in its full glory. Trail riding, as it turned out, was a pleasant way to enjoy the landscape, and Arthur had planned it all just for him. 

“There’s a crick further up the way. If you don’t feel comfortable crossin’ it, there’s a different path that cuts through the trees.” Arthur said as he turned in his saddle. His brow furrowed as he noticed Albert’s tight expression. “You alright, city slicker?”

“Yes, just got carried away by my thoughts,” he replied as he forced a smile, “let’s go through the creek. I’m feeling a bit adventurous today!” 

“If you say so,” 

They continued along, and soon enough, they reached the creek Arthur had mentioned. Albert tensed as they made their way through it, staring down at the clear water that reached his horse’s knees. It wasn’t too deep, and both mounts, as well as Arthur, seemed to be confident enough. He looked up at the opposite edge of the creek and squinted at a large black mass. It was moving, and while he had opened his mouth to ask Arthur what it was, he never had the chance before Arthur’s horse reared without warning.

The commotion sent what he now recognized as a black bear running into a nearby thicket. Montie’s ears swiveled back as he abruptly sidestepped with a snort. Albert tightened his grip on the saddle, and his eyes widened as he watched Arthur fall right into the water. His heart pounded against his ribs, frozen in place. However, his panic only lasted for a brief moment before Arthur resurfaced, sputtering and swearing as he sat upright in the water. As he snatched his floating hat and pushed his wet hair out of his face, Albert bit his lip. His fear had melted away, and he brought a hand up to his face in an attempt to stifle his amusement. Arthur was a soggy mess, and his pout was too much. It was when the two of them made eye contact that Albert finally lost it, his laughter spilling from him all at once.

“What’re you laughing at?” He huffed as his face wrinkled into a scowl.

“Nothing!” He chuckled. “Nothing at all!”

“Sure,” he muttered, “liar.”

Albert would’ve apologized for laughing right then and there, but the grin pulling at the corner of Arthur’s mouth told him that his ego wasn’t as bruised as he pretended it was. Knowing this, Albert withdrew his phone and snapped a photo of the moment. Arthur frowned up at him as he picked himself up.

“Did you seriously just take a photo?”

Albert flashed him a sheepish smile. "Maybe.”

He rolled his eyes as he walked Boadicea the rest of the way across the creek. “Now look who ain’t got a sense of decency!”

“Oh come now, it’ll make for a good memory to look back on!” 

“Uh-huh,” he said as he shrugged off his soaked jacket and tucked it into a saddlebag, “you’ll be looking back rememberin’ how dry and warm you were while I remember how fucking cold cricks are in March.”

Albert chuckled to himself as he pulled his sweater over his head. “Here, take that flannel off and wear this.”

The offer seemed to take him by surprise as his feigned sour mood dissipated all at once. “What about you?” 

“I’ll be fine, it’s you that I’m worried about,”

He eyed the maroon cable knit sweater from where he stood before meeting Albert’s eyes again. “That button up you’re wearing ain’t gonna do you any favors.”

“And neither are those sopping wet clothes! You’re going to catch a cold if don’t wear _something _that’s dry.”

Arthur heaved a sigh and grumbled to himself as he pulled his waterlogged flannel and tank top over his head. Albert smiled, happy to have convinced Arthur to listen to him. It was for his own good, and while the photographer couldn’t complain about the view of his bare chest, the raised silvery scars from December never failed to stand out to him. Of course, in Albert’s mind, Arthur was just as attractive now as he was the day they met. The scars made no difference to him. If anything, it was the memory associated with them that made his breath hitch at the sight. Albert looked away and cleared his throat, feeling his emotions nearly get the better of him again that afternoon.

Once Arthur had mounted his horse again, they started their trek back to the barn. With Arthur being soaked from the waist down and Albert hardly staying warm enough in his button-up, it was decided that it was in their best interest that they head home. On the ride back, Arthur couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it would feel to get a warm shower before settling down in front of the fireplace. Just the idea alone made him feel colder than he already was, and while he had resisted the offer at first, he was beyond grateful for Albert’s warm sweater.

As cold and eager as he was to get home, Arthur hoped (and nearly prayed) that he would be able to untack the two horses in peace without anyone asking why he was soaked. Of course, he had no such luck. When they returned to the stable, Kieran was there, mucking the stalls. He looked up, his eyebrows lifting high at the pitiful sight the two of them made and set the rake aside.

“What happened to you two?” He asked as he led Montie over to a mounting block so Albert could dismount safely.

“A black bear startled Boadicea,” Arthur said as he dismounted. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Other than a bruised ego and maybe a tailbone? Sure, I’m fine.”

“And the horses?” Kieran asked as he felt their legs.

“They’re fine too, no limps or nothin’,” 

He exhaled a sigh of relief as he took both horses by their reins. “I’ll go ahead and get them untacked. You go home and take care of yourself, okay?” 

Arthur thanked him and turned to Albert. “Did you drive or did Charles drop you off?”

“I drove, but before I leave I want to talk to the ranch owner,”

He narrowed his eyes, suddenly skeptical of Albert’s intentions. “Why?”

“I want to see if they could use a photographer to help advertise what they do. It’s a beautiful place and despite what little I know about horses, its facilities seem to be top of the line.” 

“Alright, I’ll see you at home, then. You’ll find the owner in that building over there.” He said as he gestured to a log home just up the road. “His name is David Geddes.”

“Thanks Arthur,”

He nodded and made his way towards his truck before heading home.

It wasn't until he was soaking in the tub that he realized how cold he'd been. Closing his eyes, he submerged himself as far as he could comfortably go. Arthur let his head rest against the back of the tub and breathed out a contented sigh. He could feel the water's warmth drawing out the cold from his bones and the tension from his muscles. It was heavenly, and he had nearly fallen asleep when he heard the front door open and close.

Arthur furrowed his brow and checked the clock on the wall. Judging by the time, Albert had spent maybe thirty minutes talking to Geddes, and he couldn't help but wonder if the two men's conversation had been over something more than just photography.

He decided to find out for himself and drained the tub as he dried himself off. Arthur didn't bother to do much with his hair, and he shrugged on a fleece-lined flannel that he paired with some jeans before making his way downstairs. 

However, as he walked down the stairs, he saw no sign of Albert. Arthur frowned as he glanced down the hall at the mudroom where he had expected to find the tall boots Albert had worn. He scratched the back of his head, finding that they were still missing, and for a brief moment, he wondered if he had lost his sanity. 

Shaking his head, he entered the kitchen and began to make himself a pot of coffee. Once the coffee had started to brew, he leaned forward against the kitchen island.

As the coffee pot filled the silence with its familiar gurgling, Arthur's thoughts wandered to the look he'd seen in Albert's eye twice that afternoon. He'd caught the last one without him noticing. His expression had turned wistful, and Arthur had noticed the way he had averted his gaze from his bare chest. There was no mistaking what had caused the brief change in the photographer's demeanor. Arthur knew his scars were to blame. December had been a nightmare for Albert, and for his sake, Arthur wished his skin wasn't etched with the painful reminder. He had intended for their afternoon ride to be a peaceful one, and yet he had failed miserably at even giving Albert that.

He sighed and rested his head in his hands until the coffee pot signaled that it had finished. Arthur lifted his head as it beeped, and he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight before him. 

On the counter in front of him was a cat, and to even call it such was a stretch. Its reddish-brown and black fur was matted and clumped together, and there was a scar where one eye should’ve been. It was a pitiful sight, but the cat seemed unbothered by his reaction as its green eye stared up at him.

Arthur stared at it in disbelief as he heard the front door open and shut. Albert soon appeared from around the corner, his arms full with two large bags. He looked up at him as he slowly began to connect the dots.

“What the hell is this, Al?” He demanded. 

“Why, that’s a cat, Arthur,” he quipped as he set the bags down. "A Maine Coon, to be precise."

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, having little to no patience for jokes at the moment. “Yes, but why is it in our house?”

“_It_, is a she, and she’s ours now,”

“What do you mean she’s _ours?_”

“Well, while Mr. Geddes and I were talking, she came right up to me looking for attention. He said that she’s _never _approached anyone before and then told me that I could take her home.”

Arthur frowned. “We are _not _keeping that thing!”

“And why not?” Albert said as he scratched behind an ear that had a notch taken out of it. 

He examined the cat once more. She was in rough shape, and despite her loud purring and squinted eye, he found it hard to believe that a barn cat would want to stay indoors with them for long. “We don’t know if she’s feral, Al. Shit, we don’t even know if she’s house trained!” 

“Geddes said that his veterinarian who comes out to check the horses also spays, neuters, and vaccinates the barn cats on his property. The house training is an easy fix.”

Arthur shook his head as he poured a cup of coffee for both of them. “I refuse to take any part in this.”

“You don’t really mean that, do you?”

“I do,”

“But how can you resist this adorable face!”

He scoffed as he eyed the cat’s scarred eye. “It ain’t that hard.”

Albert tsked as he took the coffee mug Arthur handed to him. “You’re ridiculous!”

“Listen, I ain’t the one who brought in a sad excuse for a cat!” 

Albert covered up her ears and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “He didn’t mean that...say, what should we name her?”

“Freak,”

“Arthur!”

He shrugged. “I ain’t wrong."

“Well, she isn’t one to me,” he huffed before taking a sip of his coffee. His eyes then lit up as he smiled from ear to ear. “I’ve got it! I’ll call her Espresso Bean; Bean for short!” 

Arthur simply shook his head. “Regardless, I hope you plan on giving it a bath.”

“_Her_,” Albert corrected as he pulled a small bath mat from one of the bags and placed it in the sink. “And as a matter of fact, I do.”

“Good,” he said as he took his coffee mug into the living room, “best of luck to you.”

It took Albert nearly three hours to groom and clean the cat, and it boggled Arthur's mind how patient and determined he was. Albert had never expressed an interest in owning a cat, and yet he was painstakingly pouring out his heart and soul over one mangey, sad-excuse for a feline. 

He peered over his shoulder to see Albert gently drying the cat. It wasn’t until then that he realized just how much dirt had coated her. Now that her fur was clean, he had to admit that Albert had chosen the perfect name for her. Her coloring was a mixture of walnut and caramel browns that reminded him of the coffee he often made for Albert. The blend of warm browns made the white that ran from her forehead down to her belly stand out brightly. While he didn’t fancy the idea of keeping her, there was no denying that she was, at least to some degree, beautiful. Regardless, it was impossible to ignore the missing eye and chipped ear. 

The cold chill he felt earlier returned without warning, pulling him out of his thoughts. After taking another sip of his coffee, he rose to his feet to get the fireplace going. Arthur rubbed his hands together in front of the flames and turned to see Albert struggling to keep the cat in the towel he had wrapped around her.

“Oh my _goodness_, Beanie Bean, you’re not even completely dry!” He said as she jumped down from the counter and trotted over to where Arthur stood. “I think she likes you!” 

“I think she likes the heat,” he said as he returned to his seat. 

“Well, I suppose that’s one way to get dry,” Albert mused as he sat beside him. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m still trying to shake that cold chill, and I’m a little sore, but I’m fine,”

“You know what might be good for you?”

“What?”

“A hot toddy and a good plate of food. We could go to that family owned pub just outside of town, the one that _isn’t _Irish.” He said with a grin.

Arthur chuckled at that. “Sure, why the hell not.”

“Great! Let me feed Bean first and then we can be on our way.”

The pub was as crowded as Arthur had expected it to be for a Friday night. Albert wasn’t surprised either. The photographer had predicted this earlier and had made Arthur promise not to start any fights. Attracting that kind of attention to themselves was the last thing they needed, and Arthur had no qualms swearing off bar fights for that very reason.

They decided to sit at the counter, and after eating, Arthur ordered himself a hot toddy. Even now, despite his vest and the fleece-lined flannel he wore, he was still cold. Most of his attempts to shake it had been unsuccessful, and he hoped that the combination of hot tea and whiskey would restore the warmth he had lost in the creek.

It didn't take long for the bartender to return with his drink. He thanked her and breathed in the notes orange and cinnamon that blended so well with the smell of whiskey. Albert, much to Arthur’s surprise, had ordered a glass of whiskey. He quirked an eyebrow at the amber liquid before his eyes settled on Albert.

“You ordered a whiskey?” 

He shrugged. “I’m in the mood for something with a bite. Plus, I know it’s a drink that won’t go to waste if I can’t finish it.”

Arthur shook his head. “You know it don’t matter if it goes to waste or not, right? We ain’t rich, but it ain’t like we’re living paycheck to paycheck.” 

“I know,” he sighed before downing some of the liquor, “it’s a habit my parents instilled in me. They’re quite frugal people, and growing up we were taught that absolutely nothing went to waste.”

“I see,” he mused, “then, I guess it bears repeating; don’t worry about it.” 

Albert smiled to himself as he watched Arthur take a swig of his drink. The meaning conveyed by those simply put words meant more to him than he could describe nor explain. He adored the way Arthur had with words, both spoken and written. While he often denied it, what he said was often simplistic in its poetry. Yet somehow, Arthur was able to convey leagues of depth with few words. The basic command that came from a place of deep devotion left him without a response. It was an art Albert had yet to master, and he couldn't help but wonder who in his life he had to thank for his eloquence that hid behind his folksy veneer. He drank from his glass, knowing there would be better opportunities to ask such a question.

They chatted for a while until Arthur had to excuse himself to use the restroom. He had just finished washing his hands when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. When he pulled it out, one glance at the LCD told him it was Charles calling, and he answered it.

“Hey, Charles,”

“Hey, am I interrupting anything?” 

“No, not really,” he replied, “Is everything okay?” 

“Well, that depends. Do you know why there’s a cat in the house?”

“Oh, Albert picked her up from the ranch. Don’t know exactly _why _he felt so compelled to do so_, _but he’s set on keepin’ her around.”

“Does she have a name?” 

Arthur drew a deep breath as if he had to prepare himself to say what he thought was a ridiculous name. “Espresso Bean.” 

Silence.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“You heard me!” He grunted, knowing Charles was toying with him at this point. Arthur could almost hear his shit-eating grin. 

“Just wanted to make sure _someone _intentionally allowed this cat into the house,” he chuckled, “where are you two anyway?”

“We’re at that one English pub just outside of town. We should be back in an hour.”

“Alright, Arthur, have fun,”

“Thanks,”

He hung up and returned to his seat. As he got settled, Arthur glanced up at the hockey game that was playing on the television. He was entertained by it for a moment before his stare returned to his drink. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Albert was staring at him, and he furrowed his brow as he lifted his gaze to meet his. He was drunk. His pupils were blown wide, and there was an uncharacteristically lopsided grin plastered on his face. Albert seemed lost in thought as if he was in a trance, and Arthur’s frown deepened in concern.

“You alright there, city slicker?”

“Right as rain,” he hummed as he rested his head in his hand with a dreamy look in his eye. “Forgive me for being so bold, but are you single?”

Arthur nearly choked on his drink he had taken a sip of as he laughed. “Hell no, I ain’t single! Are you kiddin’ me?”

He visibly flinched at his response, his expression instantaneously becoming crestfallen. “You aren’t?”

“No!” He managed to say between bits of laughter, using the back of his hand to wipe off his chin. “In fact, the man I’m with is the most attractive and kind man I’ve ever met. Except I ain’t got a clue why he’d want an idiot like me.”

Albert’s foggy mind couldn’t comprehend why he winked afterward, but the revelation broke his heart. It could have very well been the alcohol (and it was), but he couldn’t fight back the tears as they began to spill from his eyes. Before him was a man like any other, and he was _taken? _It was just his luck to find someone so perfect only to discover that he couldn’t be his.

Arthur tensed as Albert began to cry into his hands, and he wondered how one glass of whiskey could affect him so strongly. It wasn’t until he glanced at the empty whiskey glass that Arthur noticed another tall empty glass beside it, and while he wasn’t sure what drink it had been, he did know for a fact that Albert hadn’t been flirting like he’d thought the photographer was. The man’s question had been genuine, and he swore under his breath as he tried pulling Albert’s hands away from his face. Arthur felt sick to his stomach for the hurt he’d unintentionally caused. He muttered a curse under his breath as Albert buried his face behind his folded arms that rest on the counter. Arthur gently shushed him to quiet his crying as he finally managed to lift his face just enough to meet his eyes.

“Shit, Al, would you calm down? I’m _your _idiot.”

He sniffed as his eyebrows pulled together. “You’re what?”

“I ain’t single because I’m taken by _you_. We’ve been dating since November.” Arthur said as he gently wiped away the remaining tears with his thumbs. 

It took a moment for Arthur’s words to sink in, but when they did, a large smile replaced his puzzled look and he laughed. “Right! Of course, how could I forget?”

“Just how much have you drank?”

“Too much, that’s for sure. Someone gave me a Long Island Iced Tea that they ordered and—”

_“And you drank it?”_

“She was going to throw it away!”

“Fucking hell, Albert!” He hissed as he cradled his head to get a better look at him. “You have no idea what was in that!”

"Well, usually it’s Triple Sec, Rum, Gin, Vodka—”

“That ain’t what I mean!” He snapped as he examined his hazel eyes for any sign that he’d been drugged. His heart was hammering hard against his chest. “What’s today?”

“It’s Friday, silly-willy,”

“You got any siblings?”

“That’s a ridiculous question! You met Heather a week ago, remember?”

He sighed as he let go of his face, relieved to find that Albert was just drunk. “I remember. Just wanted to see if you did too.”

“I may be drunk, and a lil’ stupid, but I’m not forgetful,”

“That ain’t—” he shook his head, “You’re absolutely shit-faced, but you know I don’t think you’re stupid, right Al?”

Albert’s gaze lowered to the bar counter as he drew shapes in the leftover condensation. “That’s because you’re too kind. I’m a college dropout with nothing going for me. You and Charles are the two who contribute the most.”

He scoffed. “That don’t mean nothin’! Hell, I’m a _high school _dropout. ‘Sides, you’re doing what you love, and that’s what matters. Half of Charles’ savings account is his share from what we did back in the day anyways.”

“And what about yours?”

He finished off his drink with a swig before answering. “It all went to lawyers and court fees.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be,” he said as he waved for the bartender to get the tab, “let’s get you home so we can get you to bed. You’re gonna have one helluva hangover come sunrise.”

Walking out of the pub and down the street was truly a sight to behold. Albert could hardly stand on his own two feet, and while Arthur had one of his arms slung around his shoulders to support him, Albert didn’t make it easy for him in the least. Other than being a giggling mess and leaning heavily on Arthur for support, he was determined to pepper nearly every inch of his skin with kisses. Arthur simply let it happen. There was no point in fighting it, and he was thankful that Albert was the happy kind of drunk when inebriated. However, he did jump when one particular open-mouthed kiss to his neck became a bite. 

Arthur swore under his breath as he nearly lost his grip on the photographer. “Do you _want _me to drop you?”

Albert only laughed, not caring about the fact that he’d almost kissed the concrete instead of Arthur.

He rolled his eyes and stopped walking to carry him the rest of the way bridal style instead. Arthur didn’t trust Albert to behave himself, but he seemed to have no qualms about the situation as he snuggled himself into the crook of Arthur’s neck.

“What am I gonna do with you?” Arthur grunted as he adjusted his grip.

“Whatever you want,” he whispered into his ear before giving his earlobe a nip.

“You’re ridiculous,” he chuckled, although he couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine, “and _drunk_. The hell were you thinkin’ drinkin’ all that liquor?”

“I was thinking it was delicious, especially after having that glass of whiskey,”

He snorted. “It’s a wonder you’re still alive."

Albert giggled at that. “Truly! I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you around to keep my shoulders on my head!”

“You mean your head on your shoulders?”

“That too,”

Arthur set him down once they’d reached the Ford Bronco and helped Albert into the passenger seat. However, it was only on the second attempt that the photographer actually made it into the vehicle. If Arthur hadn’t been there, he would have no doubt fallen flat on his rear. As Albert vocally admired his strong arms, Arthur buckled him in and shut the door before walking around to the driver’s seat.

The drive back home was anything but peaceful. Albert was determined to sing along to Arthur’s cassette tapes the whole way home. Arthur wasn’t surprised by his behavior, and he even humored him by singing with him for a few choruses. However, the impromptu karaoke ended before Albert would have liked. After Arthur parked the car, he went around the truck to open Albert’s door for him. The photographer was still entirely inebriated, and Arthur didn’t trust him to make it through the door and up the stairs on his own.

Albert didn’t protest as he was scooped up into Arthur’s arms for the second time that night. He practically melted into the touch. It could have been because of his drunken stupor and the liquor that had drained his energy, but Arthur’s warmth felt exceptionally lovely as he was carried into their bedroom. A delighted sigh escaped Albert as he rested his head against his chest, and he smiled as he felt Arthur’s low chuckle.

It was shortly after that he felt Arthur gently set him down on the bed, or at least he tried to. Albert was determined to keep his arms wrapped around Arthur's neck, and he heard him grunt when Albert became a dead weight that clung to him.

“You’ve gotta let go, Al,”

“No,”

Arthur muttered under his breath, and even with his mouth hovering over his ear Albert couldn’t make out the words. “I ain’t going nowhere. I’m just gettin’ ready for bed.”

Albert reluctantly let go at that and watched as Arthur swapped his clothes for the usual t-shirt and sweatpants combination that he preferred to sleep in. His brow furrowed, however, as Arthur left the room, although he wasn’t gone for long before he returned with a glass of water in one hand and two pills in another.

“Here, take this. Best you get a headstart on the hangover you’ll have tomorrow.” 

Albert thanked him as he managed to sit up and took the two painkillers. As he wiped the water off his chin, Arthur took the glass from his hand and set it on the nearby nightstand. Somehow, Arthur managed to get Albert into his own sleeping clothes, insisting that he would regret not doing so in the morning when his head was pounding like a bass drum. Ultimately, the photographer didn’t have much of a choice. Arthur was set on getting him changed, and Albert didn’t have it in him to protest. 

Nearly fifteen minutes had passed before Arthur finally settled underneath the covers, pulling them over Albert in the process as he wrapped an arm around his waist. However, his shirt had ridden up in the process of getting him to bed, resulting in Arthur’s hand pressing against the revealed skin of his lower back. Albert jumped and tried to scoot closer to Arthur in an attempt to inch away from the touch.

“Good heavens, Arthur! Your hands are like ice!”

He laughed as he pulled down Albert’s shirt. “Sorry.”

Albert shivered and pulled Arthur closer as he sought his body heat. Arthur didn’t mind. It was nice having Albert as close as he was, and for the first time since his bath earlier that day, he felt perfectly warm from the inside out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your love/support/time <3 There will be more to come next weekend since I have a few days off!
> 
> Also thank you caps_kat for naming the little fur-baby! :D


	3. La Vie en Rose

Arthur had set an alarm for himself the very next morning, except it wasn’t his alarm that woke him. Instead, it was a light touch to his nose. He frowned and blinked open his eyes to find that it was Espresso Bean, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to eat. He sat there, slowly recalling how they’d—or Albert—had picked up the cat yesterday. She took the opportunity to gently bat at his nose once more, this time leaning down to sniff his forehead while loudly purring.

He glanced over at Albert only to find him sound asleep with drool spilling from the corner of his mouth. Arthur heaved a sigh, muttered under his breath, and gingerly rose to his feet. He winced with the movement, feeling sore all over. His tailbone especially ached, and he mentally scolded himself for the hundredth time for not reacting faster to Boadicea’s rearing the other day.

Arthur stiffly made his way down the stairs, being reminded all too vividly that he wasn’t the young buck he used to be. While he certainly wasn’t old, there was no denying the stiffness in his joints from his minor spill. His whole body felt like it’d been tossed down a hill, and he decided to take a few pills for the pain before feeding Bean. 

Once she was happily chowing down some paté wet food Albert had bought, he made himself a bowl of cereal and ate at the kitchen island. He wasn’t in the mood for a heavy meal, and when he finished, he decided to run a few quick errands. He had hoped that by the time he returned that he'd be feeling more like himself. Yet, if anything, it made him feel worse. 

It was around four in the afternoon when he finally decided to relax on the couch. As he scanned the channels with little interest, Bean decided to jump into his lap with a trill. It started him, and he watched with a furrowed brow as she made herself at home on his lap. She looked up expectantly at him, her one green eye squinting at him as she purred. Eventually, Arthur gave in with a sigh and petted her, alternating between long strokes and scratching behind her ear. 

The longer he continued to pet Bean, the more he felt his exhaustion pull at him and spending what was left of the day resting sounded heavenly to Arthur. He found his eyes closing on their own as Bean snuggled closer to him. Just the thought of spending the next few hours sleeping was tempting. Perhaps he’d even make himself a hot toddy and—

“Arthur, do you have a minute?”

He opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder as Albert came down the steps, and Arthur found himself doing a double-take at the sight. Albert was in a white button-down shirt with suspenders that were buttoned to his black slacks. The unexpected formal attire had Arthur’s heart stumbling over its own rhythm, fluttering within his chest as he tried to recover his ability to speak.

“Sure, what’s with the fancy outfit?”

“There’s a gala at the Denver Art Museum, and the art group that I’m a member of has decided to go,” Albert replied as he looked up from adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. “I was wondering if, well, if you were interested in joining me. I know it’s about an hour away and—”

“Of course, I would love to,” he answered without hesitation as he studied him. “Are you okay? I can tell there’s somethin’ botherin’ you. I thought you liked art museums.”

Albert adjusted his bowtie as he thought over his words. “It isn’t so much the event as it is a person who will be going.”

Arthur quirked an eyebrow. “Go on.”

He drew a deep breath. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you, Arthur.”

“You finally change your mind about keepin' me around?” He teased with a crooked grin.

His brows pulled together in a deep frown. “No! Absolutely not!”

“Easy! I was just—”

“But were you? Were you truly, one hundred percent, just joking?” Albert challenged. Arthur’s silence was the only answer he was given, and he continued with a sigh. “There’s a man who is part of our group, and I can’t tell if he’s been flirting with me the past few weeks. It would not only be a pleasure to have you by my side, but also a comfort, and perhaps your presence will discourage his behavior.”

"I get it," he said.

Albert thanked him and smiled when he noticed Bean dozing on Arthur's lap. "She likes you." 

"She only likes me 'cuz I fed her," he huffed. "How's your hangover?"

"It's fine, nothing another dose of pain killers can't help. Thank you, Arthur, for everything last night."

"It was nothin',"

Albert simply shook his head and gave his cheek a peck. It made Arthur smile, and he scooped up Espresso Bean and set her to the side so he could get changed. 

What he had wasn't nearly as nice as what Albert was wearing, but it was certainly better than the flannel and jeans he'd had on. After adjusting his blue tie, he leaned against the sink and looked over the gray blazer and navy blue vest in the mirror. The outfit had been a gift from Trelawney. Of course, the Englishman hadn't given him the suit without a grand scheme to rob some poor rich fool. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as he recalled the memory of robbing the man on the riverboat casino and their escape by way of diving into the Mississippi River. Other than the firefight and nearly losing his life, it had been a grand time, and he was surprised that the suit still looked like new.

"Arthur?"

He turned to find Albert in the doorway and offered him a sheepish smile as he straightened himself. "Sorry, I got lost in my own thoughts." 

Albert looked him over. "Good ones, I hope?"

"Sure, you could call them that,"

"I meant to tell you earlier that you don't have to come. I know going to a gala isn't really something you'd choose to do—”

Arthur exhaled a huff. "For the love—it ain't, but I enjoy spending time with you no matter where we are."

He smiled before he looked Arthur over. “I don’t think I’ve seen you dress this nicely before.”

“It ain’t my favorite,”

“I can’t say I blame you, but you do look absolutely dashing in a suit.”

He rolled his eyes. “Not this again.”

“Charming, dreamy, handsome, and even, dare I say it, sexy,”

No matter how hard he tried, Arthur couldn’t fight the blush that had brightly colored his cheeks. “You’re a little shit sometimes, you know that?” 

He laughed. “Yes, but I’m your little shit,”

He shook his head and grinned before pressing his lips to his temple. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Albert volunteered to drive to the art museum, and Arthur was incredibly grateful that he did. The achiness he’d felt earlier hadn’t gone away like he’d hoped it would, and it had started to spread to his head. The pain, however, was hardly enough to keep him from going to the gala. It paled in comparison to most things he’d experienced, and he figured he could easily push through the night for Albert.

They first stopped for dinner at a ritzy restaurant in the city. It wasn’t what Arthur would’ve chosen, but he didn’t mind. They were already wearing the right attire, and they had yet to have a date where both of them were well-dressed. While it didn’t matter to him, he could tell that Albert felt differently.

After finding decent parking, they walked towards the main entrance of the art museum, and Arthur felt Albert take his hand. It brought a smile to his face, and he lifted his hand to press his lips against the back of it. Albert returned the gesture by giving his hand a gentle squeeze as if to tell him he was grateful to have him by his side. 

They stepped into the grand foyer, and Arthur immediately found himself impressed by the elaborate architecture. Its geometric structure was nearly dizzying, and he had to look away from it to keep his head straight. 

Albert led him to a small gathering of people that Arthur assumed was made of the members of his art group. He observed the mix of people as if he would be able to pick out the gentleman who had been flirting with Albert. As expected, he had no such luck. He would have to wait for Albert to point him out.

After the welcome, they made their way up the stairs to the reception to view the gallery. The featured artist, Arthur discovered, was Monet. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen. There were paintings displayed nearly everywhere, extensively showing not only Monet’s life but also his paintings that spanned his entire career. It was truly a sight to behold, and one glance at Albert told him he was thoroughly enjoying himself. He was practically glowing, and it made Arthur’s heart flutter.

The evening had been mostly uneventful as they enjoyed the artwork, and Arthur had almost forgotten about the man Albert had been so worried about. It was when they were standing by the table of hors d’oeuvres that Albert reached for his hand again. However, this time, he could tell the photographer was tense. He gave him a concerned look before following his gaze to see a man approaching them.

The dark-haired gentleman wore a broad smile that was framed by a well-groomed mustache and goatee, although his eyes were surrounded by dark circles. He had a glass of brandy in his hand, and he greeted Albert by touching his cheek to either side of his face while making a kissing sound.

“Mon cher ami! How are you liking the gala so far?”

“It’s wonderful,” Albert replied as he forced a smile, clearly uncomfortable from the warm greeting.

“I agree, although this phony French flair is nauseating, non?” 

Albert furrowed his brow. “And why is that?”

“It’s too...ostentatoire, don’t you think?” 

Arthur wrinkled his nose at what he thought was an odd word. “It’s what?”

The man shifted his attention to Arthur and gave him a thorough once-over look. “And who is this?”

“Name’s Arthur Morgan,” he said as he held out his hand.

He gladly shook it. “Enchanté! Charles, Charles Châtanay. What I mean to say is this is a cheap imitation, a, what do you call it, a whoring of a French lifestyle only the rich live, mon ami.” 

Arthur snorted while Albert’s eyes widened at his crass wording, and their reactions only seemed to encourage Charles as he laughed.

"A whoring, huh?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, but of course, who doesn't love the way of the French? You Americans can't get enough of it."

"I guess not,"

He flashed him a wide smile. “Tell me, Arthur, what do you do?”

“I work on a ranch in Manitou Springs,”

“How very American of you,” he replied before taking a swig of his brandy. “I love it!”

“What about you? What do you do?”

“Mostly I pose, I show off, I complain...” Charles then gestured vaguely with his free hand, “that sort of thing, and depending on who you ask, I’m either a whole-ass or a painter!”

“Well, how very French of you!”

He chuckled before turning back to Albert. “How do you know each other?” 

“We’ve been dating for four months now,” he replied quickly. There was an unmistakable edge to his tone, and Arthur couldn’t help but give him a questioning side-long glance that the photographer chose to ignore. 

“Congratulations!” Charles said as he gave Albert’s shoulder a pat. “What I like to say to people, Albert, is that art is _lies_. Don’t believe in art! But women, well, I guess I can’t tell you to believe in women, but I suppose love has its own truth.”

“I suppose it does,” Albert’s tone was both cordial and curt, and under different circumstances, Arthur would have been impressed by how he’d managed for it to be both. At that moment, however, he knew something was bothering Albert. Yet, Arthur wasn't sure what had caused the shift in his mood.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, now,” he said with a wink, “but I do hope to see you again, Arthur! Albert should bring you along on our soirees more often.”

“We’ll see about that one. You take care now.” Arthur replied.

It wasn’t until Charles was out of earshot that Albert turned to him with a frown. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

The crease between his brows deepened. “Please, you’re smarter than that.”

“I’m sorry, Al, I really don’t understand what you’re tryin’ to ask,”

“You were encouraging his flirting! Why is it that you always encourage people who are flirting with you?” 

Arthur furrowed his brow. “Now just wait a minute, I wouldn’t necessarily call that flirting.”

“Then what would you call it?”

“I dunno Al, he’s just,” he searched for the right word and sighed in frustration when he couldn’t, “French. He’s just French.”

“Was Diane French, too?” 

“What?” He asked, his nose wrinkling at the subtle accusation. “Shit, you still ain’t let that one go?”

“Have you?”

Arthur muttered under his breath. He wasn’t sure what had gotten stuck in Albert’s craw or why he was as bristly and wary as he was. Yet what he did know was that he didn’t have the energy to argue with him. He heaved a sigh and shook his head before reaching out for Albert’s hand again, although he wasn’t quite sure when the photographer had let go.

“Al, the last thing I want to do is fight with you here when all you wanted was to have a good time. I ain’t ever gonna leave your side, not for the world, and you gotta trust me on that.”

Albert’s prickly mood dissipated at that, and he looked down at their joined hands. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I didn’t mean to snap. I guess I’m sensitive when it comes to that area.”

“You think?” He asked with a gentle smile. “Listen, I’m loyal to only a few people, you included, but I’m devoted to you, and only you, understand?”

He nodded, and Arthur lifted his chin to kiss his cheek, where he let his lips linger for a moment before pulling away.

The smooth jazz music playing over the speakers faded and was soon replaced with a live band. Albert seemed to light up as he watched the musicians begin to play “La Vie en Rose”. He looked over at Arthur after a moment, his eyes bright once again. “Well? Shall we?”

“Shall we what?”

“Dance, of course!”

“Al, you know I ain’t good at dancing,”

“Nonsense! You did just fine a few months ago.”

Arthur gave in with a sigh as Albert pulled him over to where other couples were dancing. While they received several looks, they both ignored them all. Albert’s embrace had melted away Arthur’s hesitation, and as far as they were concerned, they were the only two in the room. Eventually, the singer joined in with the band and started the first verse. It was the English version of the song, and Arthur smiled to himself as he pulled Albert closer. He found himself quickly caught up in the moment that could only be described as enchanting. With his eyes closed, he pressed his cheek against Albert’s as they waltzed.

When the song ended, they found a seat with Albert’s group, where they spent the rest of the night chatting over fine champagne and hors d’oeuvres. As Arthur watched Albert, he couldn’t help but notice how well he fit into the classy atmosphere and guests. It was a side of him Arthur hardly got to see, and without already knowing his past, he would have never guessed that Albert had exposure to an extravagant lifestyle. The photographer was genteel and well-mannered, but never pompous or arrogant. Despite his upbringing, he was down-to-earth, and Arthur could make neither head nor tail of it.

“Your family often attended these sorts of things, didn’t they?” He finally asked.

“They did, bored me half to death as a child,” Albert replied.

“I figured, you fit right in with this crowd when you want to,”

He took a sip of champagne and shrugged. “I was raised in it.”

“And yet you still chose to be with country trash,” he grinned.

“Well, in _this_ story, the city mouse visited the country mouse and determined that the country life was far more prosperous than any pampered lifestyle,”

Arthur laughed at that. “Is that so?”

“Quite so, and the city mouse may have also found some added pleasure to their life thanks to the country mouse. I hear he’s quite the charmer, or so the story goes.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what story you’ve been readin’, but it sounds like a load of bull.” 

“Well, say what you like, but I for one know it’s true,”

The gala soon came to a close, and Arthur was grateful when it did. While he'd had a great time, he had only started to feel worse. As Albert drove them home, Arthur closed his eyes and massaged his temple. His headache had grown, and it was only then that it occurred to him that he was coming down with a cold. It was the only thing that explained the ache throughout his body and the congestion in his head. 

When they got home, Arthur made his way over to the medicine cabinet as Albert went upstairs to change. Yet, he discovered that they didn't have any cold medicine yet. None of them had been sick since moving in, and no one had considered starting a supply of the stuff. Arthur sighed and instead shook out three capsules of Tylenol into his hand. It wasn't his first choice, but it would have to do for now.

He soon joined Albert in their room and found him lying on the bed with Bean curled up on his chest. The sight made him smile, and once he'd changed into more comfortable clothes and hung up his suit, he settled in beside him.

For a while, Arthur laid on his side and silently watched Albert as he showered Espresso Bean with unadulterated adoration. It made him wonder what had pulled at the photographer's heart when he'd first seen the cat. Was it pity that had compelled him to take in the animal? Or did he genuinely fall in love with her the moment his eyes laid on her? Regardless, Arthur had started to notice a pattern with Albert. 

His eyes shifted from Bean to Albert, and for a brief moment, he admired the faint crow's feet that only appeared when he smiled.

"You love broken things,"

The comment took Albert off guard, causing his brow to furrow ever so slightly. "What do you mean?"

"The watch, Beanie," he reached out to stroke her cheek, "me."

"Beanie isn't broken,” Albert said as he shook his head. “You aren't broken. And I'll have you know that I had that watch fixed back in January, thank you very much!"

He chuckled to himself. "Is that so, Mr. Mason?"

"It most certainly is, Mr. Morgan," he said with a grin, "but regardless, even broken things can be beautiful."

Arthur snorted. "Bullshit."

"Tell me, have you ever seen a mosaic?"

"Sure,"

"Pray tell, what is a mosaic made of?"

"Glass?"

"Yes, but what kind of glass?"

"Painted?"

Albert heaved a sigh. "It's made out of broken glass, and the end result is beautiful."

"I ain't sure I'm following,"

"Arthur, you've had a lot of things happen in your life. I know you think they've made you broken, and they may have made you feel broken, but that's not the end of your story. Your past, both the good and the bad, tell a story of you; who you are, what you care about, those kinds of things. If you look at each piece individually, you can tell for a fact that it's broken, but all together? It makes a masterpiece."

Arthur furrowed his brow. "You really think I'm a masterpiece?"

"Of course I do! Why wouldn't I?" He held up a hand when Arthur had opened his mouth to reply. "Don't answer that, it was a rhetorical question. Now get some rest, you look absolutely exhausted."

Arthur chuckled to himself and closed his eyes, and it wasn't long before he fell sound asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy!
> 
> Thanks for all your support! Unfortunately, I'm not sure when the next chapter will be uploaded since the next two weeks are going to be crazy with work. 😅But thanks for sticking around!


	4. Let Me Take Care of You

Arthur knew the moment he woke up that his cold had decided to make itself at home in his sinuses. He felt miserable, and he knew it would have been effortless to go back to sleep. There was an exhaustion that had settled in his bones, and with the fatigue combined with the pain in his sinuses, he felt as if he could sleep for the rest of the day.

Yet he refused to. He had just recently started feeling more like his old self, and he dreaded the thought of being put on bed rest _again_. This too would pass, but he refused to let the cold get the better of him in the meantime.

He opened his eyes to glance at the time to find it was seven in the morning. Albert was still sleeping beside him peacefully, and Espresso Bean was curled up between them. The sight brought a smile to his face, and he reached out to lightly stroke Bean's head. She awoke with a trill before purring loudly at the touch.

Arthur eventually managed to drag himself out of bed. After pulling a sweatshirt over his head and changing into a pair of jeans, Bean followed him as he made his way downstairs. The smell of fresh coffee greeted him, and in the kitchen, he found Charles at the island with his laptop in front of him. 

"Mornin' Charles," he said as he grabbed a coffee mug. 

"Morning," he replied. "How are you?"

"Fine," he said as he poured himself a cup. “And you?”

"I can’t complain. How was the gala?"

Arthur shrugged. "Like any gala, I guess. Crowded, mostly with rich folks, and loud, but we had a good time."

A small grin pulled at Charles' lips. "You didn't pickpocket anyone, did you?"

He snorted. "No, of course not."

"Did the thought cross your mind?"

Arthur hesitated as he looked up from his coffee to meet Charles' gaze. With a sigh, he leaned against the island's counter. "Briefly, now I know what Hosea meant when he talked about the time he tried getting out of the gang life with Bessie, about drifting back into it and never really any getting out. Maybe I ain't cut out for this life."

"Arthur, you were practically raised, even groomed, in that lifestyle. It's going to take some time to unlearn all that. Don't be so hard on yourself."

His eyes lowered to his coffee before finally nodding.

That seemed to please Charles, but it wasn't long after that his brow furrowed. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Sure," he lied, "why?"

"Your lips are pale and your eyes are red,"

Arthur mentally kicked himself for thinking he could hide his sickness from Charles’ keen eyes. Of course, he had noticed, and Arthur knew he wouldn’t let it go until he was resting. "I'm sure it's just a small cold."

He gave him a warning look, knowing his hard-headed tendencies all too well. "Arthur…"

"I'll be fine," he huffed, "it ain't like I'm about to keel over!"

Charles sighed. "You aren't the gang's workhorse anymore. There's no need to push yourself like you used to."

Arthur shook his head. "I appreciate your concern, but it's just a head cold."

“All I ask is that you take it easy,”

“I told Kieran last week I’d help him repair one of the fences,”

“No, you need to stay home. Kieran will understand.”

He frowned. “I’m a grown-ass man, Charles, I don’t need you tellin’ me what to do.”

“Suit yourself, but when you come home feeling worse, don’t say I didn’t warn you,”

Arthur only rolled his eyes before going out onto the deck to finish his coffee in peace. 

About an hour later, Arthur was driving over to the ranch. He stopped by a drugstore on his way there and picked up some decongestants as well as some DayQuil and NyQuil. Yet even with the cold medicines in his system, his eyelids felt heavy, and he tried to ignore the fog that clouded his thoughts.

While his determination was commendable, it was as if his body was fighting tooth and nail against him. As he worked out in the field with Kieran, each post he lifted felt heavier than they were, and his muscles ached with the effort. Even Kieran, as lean as he was, seemed to be having an easier time. It was frustrating, and by noon, a cough had settled in his chest.

Even before their lunch break, Kieran had been watching him with concerned eyes. Although he said nothing, and Arthur was grateful that he didn’t. He could finish out the day’s work. It would take more energy than it usually did, but it wasn’t impossible. Yet Kieran’s silence didn’t last. They had sat down in the shade of an Aspen tree to rest as they had their lunch, except Arthur didn’t eat much of his. He’d fallen asleep once he leaned against the tree, and it wasn’t until he was lightly snoring that Kieran knew he wasn’t feeling himself. 

However, despite the work that needed to be done, he didn’t wake him. The man needed his rest, and he could manage to put in a few more posts on his own. Kieran also knew what it was like to wake Arthur, and the man’s ire was the last thing he wanted to face. He’d felt the heat of it many times before, and while Arthur had never hurt him, testing his patience was the last thing Kieran wanted to do.

Regardless, Arthur stirred awake at the sound of a mallet hitting the fence post in place. He frowned and rubbed his eyes before looking up at Kieran. His eyes then flitted to his half-eaten lunch, and he swore under his breath as he set his lunch pail to the side. With a deep breath that induced a mild coughing fit, he rose to his feet. However, before he could take a step, his world began to spin and he leaned against the tree. 

“Shit, how long was I out for?” He asked once he’d regained his balance.

“I lost track of the time,” 

“You’re a terrible liar, Kieran, always have been,”

He sighed as he stopped what he was doing. “Maybe thirty minutes? Twenty? I don't know.”

Arthur muttered under his breath as he walked over to grab a rail. He’d slept for far too long, and he had a hunch that Kieran's guesstimation was a generous one.

“W-wait! You don’t look so good, Arthur, let me—”

“I’ve let you do enough without me!” He huffed as he leaned down to lift the beam.

He shook his head as he walked over to him. “Really, Arthur, I—”

Kieran wasn’t able to finish his sentence before Arthur stumbled to the ground. A string of curses fell from the man’s mouth as he straightened himself where he sat on the grass, brushing the dirt off his shoulder. He’d lost his balance again, and as his head swam, he squeezed his eyes shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Kieran looked him over with wide eyes. “Are you okay?” 

“What do you think?” He snapped.

He hesitated as he nervously fidgeted with the mallet in his hands. “I think you should consider going home.”

Arthur exhaled what he intended to be a scoff that instead turned into a wheezy cough. “And how the hell are you gonna finish this fence by yourself?” 

“We ain’t the only ranch hands. I’ll get someone else to help me.”

He muttered under his breath. As usual, Charles had been right, and he took Kieran’s outstretched hand despite his bruised ego before being helped onto his feet.

Albert, having been told by Charles that Arthur was sick, had been finishing up a home-made chicken soup when Arthur walked through the door. He looked awful, and Albert made a tsk sound as he went over to him. 

“What on Earth were you thinking going into work today? You look dead on your feet!” 

“I was thinking this cold wasn’t that big of a deal,” he retorted.

Albert just shook his head. “Go sit yourself down at the table and I’ll get you a bowl of soup.”

“I ain’t hungry,”

“Hungry or not, your body needs the nutrients,”

Arthur felt his simmering frustration come to a boil. “I can take care of myself! I don't need to be looked after like some useless invalid!” 

Albert studied him intently for a moment, unphased by his bristly demeanor. “Arthur, is that what people in your gang used to think?”

He furrowed his brow as he looked away, guilt quickly replacing the frustration he'd felt.

"You're allowed to be sick, Arthur. I _want _to take care of you, all I ask is that you let me."

As if on cue, a dizzy spell came over him and he staggered over to the dining table. Albert thanked him for cooperating as he poured some soup into a bowl. Arthur stared at the steaming broth as he rested his head in his hand. He didn’t feel like eating, and he hadn’t had an appetite all day. Albert pressed his lips to his temple as he gently massaged his neck and shoulders. Arthur instantly relaxed at the touch and leaned back into Albert’s hands as they skillfully worked out his tight muscles.

“Eat, Arthur, your body needs everything it can get,”

With a sigh, he gave into Albert’s request. It was the least Arthur could do considering all that the photographer had done for him. Although, after his first spoonful, eating the soup didn’t feel like a chore. The flavor, he discovered, was savory and delicious, and it wasn’t long before he’d finished the entire bowl.

He had stood to go wash the bowl when Albert took it from his hands with a smile. “I assume it wasn’t too bad?”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “Thank you.”

Albert mirrored his smile. “Of course, now get yourself into something comfortable and sleep.”

While Albert didn’t join him, he did check in on him by the hour to tend to his needs. Whether it was to refill his water or convince him to drink more, Albert was always ready to serve him in any way he could. It was the first time since December he’d seen this side of Albert so vividly, and he couldn’t help but reflect yet again just how lucky he was. Albert had no reservations tending to his every need, and his genuine kindness made his heart feel exceedingly full.

When evening came, Arthur insisted another round of soup was more than fine with him. For once, he didn’t mind the simple meal, and he was convinced it was only because Albert had made it from scratch instead of from a can. Yet despite the TLC Albert had given him, Arthur was feeling worse by the end of the day. His cold chill had come back with a vengeance, and while lying in bed, he had wrapped several blankets around himself by the time Albert checked on him again.

Albert furrowed his brow at the sight and sat on the edge of the bed before resting his wrist against Arthur’s forehead. “Goodness, Arthur, you’re burning up!”

“Just get me some NyQuil from my bag, and I’ll be fine,” he muttered.

He shook his head. “I’m taking you to the doctor tomorrow.”

Arthur tensed and looked over his shoulder. “You can’t do that.”

“And why not? You could have the flu!”

“In _March? _That’s ridiculous!” He huffed. 

“But not impossible! The flu isn’t bound to certain seasons.” he retorted.

“I ain’t going to a doctor,” he said firmly.

Albert sighed and glanced at the cold medicine in his hand before meeting Arthur’s determined gaze. “Don't be silly! What’s so bad about the doctor?”

Arthur hesitated and pulled the blankets tighter around himself. “Doctors need personal information.”

“And?”

“I’m supposed to be dead, remember?”

Albert’s expression fell as he connected the dots. “You can’t make up something? Write a false name?”

“It ain’t that easy, I’m afraid. Between insurance companies and record books, whatever I make up would have the risk of being flagged.”

“Which, I assume, would only make you easier to track?”

“In a sense,”

“What if you paid in cash and didn’t show your ID?” 

He chuckled to himself. “That wouldn’t look shady _at all_.”

Albert’s brows drew together as he ran his fingers through Arthur’s hair. He knew Arthur could handle many things, but knowing that didn’t keep his mind from running through what-if scenarios. Colds were one thing, but the thought that Arthur could have something worse had dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. He’d already come close to losing Arthur once, and just the thought of going through that again scared him.

Arthur offered him a reassuring smile as he brought Albert’s hand close to press a kiss to his knuckles. He could see the worry in his eyes, and he felt a twinge of guilt knowing that he’d been the cause of it. “I’ll be fine, Albert. This ain’t my first rodeo fighting a sickness without antibiotics.”

“Of course,” he cleared his throat of the emotions that had made his voice tight. “So what happened to the records held by the hospital in Anchorage and Cairn? Did we ever take care of them?”

“Charles had a friend of ours wipe them for us,” he said. “Thanks to Trelawney, I was never there.”

Albert nodded to himself and handed the NyQuil over to Arthur. He thanked him, downed a dose of the medicine, and handed it back to the photographer. 

“Get some rest, Arthur. I’d hate to see your cold get any worse.”

Arthur didn’t protest as he closed his eyes, easily falling asleep to Albert’s soothing touch as he carded his fingers through his hair.

Albert smiled at the sight and gently pressed his lips to Arthur’s forehead. He could feel the heat of the fever on his lips, and as he pulled away, he made a mental note to get Arthur to take some Tylenol before he went to bed himself.

Downstairs, he found Charles sitting at the kitchen island with his phone in hand with some leftovers in front of him. Albert joined him with a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Charles look up at him with a smile.

“Long day?” 

“You could say that,”

“Arthur took every opportunity to prove his stubbornness, didn’t he?”

He chuckled. “That he did.”

Charles shook his head. “You’d think a man who's nearly thirty-seven would know when to quit.”

Albert tilted his head and quirked an eyebrow. “Nearly?”

“Well, sure. His birthday is in a few months.”

He blinked. “His birthday?” 

Charles’ smile faded as he put two and two together. “He hasn’t told you when it is, has he?”

“No, he hasn’t,”

He shook his head. “Listen, it took me a year _and_ Hosea clueing me in to know when it was. Arthur never told me himself, so don’t feel bad for not knowing. He probably would’ve changed the topic if you asked.”

That made Albert feel better, and he exhaled a sigh of relief. “When is it?”

“June twenty-second,”

Albert processed the information before pulling out his phone and opening his calendar app. He marked the date and counted how many weeks were left until the day. “We have about thirteen weeks until then to plan something.”

“Did you have something specific in mind?”

He thought it over for a moment before shaking his head. “No, not at this moment, anyway.”

“Let me know if you come up with anything. We have plenty of time to toss around some ideas.”

“I will, and please let me know if you have any suggestions,”

Charles nodded. “You know, you could take him to some place as a little getaway. Nothing too extravagant, of course. As you know, that isn’t quite his style.”

He laughed. “No, not at all!”

“We’ll find something,” he smiled, “and John’s been around here for a while. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had a few places up his sleeve.”

Albert frowned as he set his phone down on the counter. “Do you think he’ll be fine with a surprise like that?”

He snorted. “He’d outright deny the gift if we told him about it. Surprising the man is the only way to get him to receive anything.”

Charles had a point. After knowing Arthur for as long as he did, it was a known fact that the man was terrible at receiving gifts. He rarely put his own desires before others. Arthur was stubbornly selfless, and while it was endearing and admirable, it was just as frustrating. Yet, perhaps with all three of them in on this, Arthur would have no choice but to accept their gift.

It took Arthur two days before he awoke to find that his fever had finally broken. While that alone made him feel better, his mind was still foggy and he ached all over. However, there was a weight on his chest that hadn’t been there before. He looked down and smiled when he found that it was only Bean. She was sleeping peacefully on his chest, and he gently stroked her head. She trilled at him and lifted her head to lean into his touch. 

“Look at you,” he said softly, “ain’t you a sweet thing?”

She purred as he scratched her chin, her one eye closing as the tip of her tail contently flicked to and fro. 

After a while, he scooped her up and set her to the side before gathering the motivation to sit up. However, he had to sit on the bed’s edge and wait for his head to stop spinning before even considering going anywhere. Bean brushed against his side as he sat there, and he humored her by stroking her back a few more times before bringing himself to stand.

He didn’t bother changing before leaving the room, and he slowly made his way down the stairs. However, he paused for a moment when he heard John’s distinct voice, and when he reached the main level, he found him sitting in the living room with Albert and Charles. They were looking at something on Albert’s phone, although John still noticed Arthur’s presence almost instantly. He smiled, although Arthur could see the concern in his eyes.

“Shit, Arthur, you look like hell!”

“Gee thanks,” he huffed as he walked over to them.

“I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to be up and moving, but you should really stay in bed until you’re better,” Albert said as he looked him over.

“I’ll lose my sanity if I’m on bed rest for another day,”

“Ever the dramatic one, ain’t you,” John teased. 

Arthur shot him a warning look. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“Oh come on, Arthur, can’t a brother come over just for the hell of it?” 

Arthur turned to Charles, knowing he could rely on him to give a straight answer. “Why is he here?”

“I invited him over for some coffee,”

He studied each of them warily before glancing at the coffee in their hands. For whatever reason, he had the feeling that they were hiding something from him. He had no proof, but Albert’s fidgeting gave him an inkling that he was possibly right.

“Why don’t you sit with us instead of standing there like a jackass?” John said.

Arthur rolled his eyes but joined them anyway by sitting next to John. However, John was quick to switch seats, opting to take Albert’s seat when he left to pour Arthur a cup of coffee.

“For fuck’s sake, I ain’t got the _plague_,”

“Plague or not, I don’t want any of your germs, and I sure as hell don’t want to spread them to my family,”

“Then why’d you come over in the first place?”

“Well, I knew you were sick, but I didn’t think you were this bad,”

“And this is him on the _mend_,” Charles said. 

John let out a low whistle at that. “You really caught something awful, huh?”

“Imagine what you would’ve had if you didn’t wear my sweater on our ride back to the ranch,” Albert said as he handed Arthur his coffee.

“Catch his death, most likely,” John mused before standing and gesturing for Albert to take his seat. “Anyways, I’m thinkin’ of having everyone over once Arthur’s better. It’s been too long since our last get together.”

Arthur was grateful for the change in topic. He was getting tired of everyone discussing his health as if he couldn’t take care of himself. He was sick, not dying, and he was capable of taking care of himself no matter how much everyone fussed over him.

“That would be wonderful!” Albert said. “We’ll let you know when Arthur’s back to his usual self.”

“Or maybe we’ll just show up,” Arthur muttered.

“Either way, it don’t matter to me, but Abigail has been trying to get me to organize somethin’,”

He eyed John, and if he had the energy, he would’ve pried. Arthur had known him long enough to know when John had something up his sleeve, yet he decided it wasn’t worth the effort to dig up whatever his brother was hiding. Although, judging by the way he excused himself and said goodbye in haste, it was clear that John knew he was onto him.

Arthur’s mind might have still been foggy from his cold, but he could tell his friends were trying to hide whatever it was that was still lingering in the air. Growing up with John made it easy to see through even the smallest cracks in his poker face. Albert and Charles, on the other hand, were something else. They had picked up a new conversation with ease as if nothing had happened. The two of them working together were no match for even Arthur’s people reading skills. Charles was as readable as a stone wall when he wanted to be, and while Albert on his own was a terrible liar, he was more than capable of mirroring others. 

His musings were interrupted when Albert asked him if he wanted to go for a drive. Arthur practically leaped at the opportunity to get out of the house, and like that, he forgot all about the games his companions were potentially playing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it's been a while 😅Hi everyone!
> 
> Thank you for your patience! While I had hoped to get a lot of writing done while on break, I ended up being sick for two weeks and then some relatives decided to stay at my house for a while (and I may or may not still have grading that needs to get done 😬).
> 
> But, anywho, here is another chapter of the soft boys and friends! I hope everyone was able to enjoy the holidays! <3


	5. Caught by Surprise

Arthur stared out the window as Albert drove through the quaint suburbs of Colorado Springs. They were on their way to the Marston's house, and Arthur rolled his window down and breathed in the cool spring air. It had taken him up to the first week of April for his cold to finally clear up, and his thoughts wandered aimlessly as Albert’s indie-folk playlist that played quietly through the Fit’s speakers. There was one thought, however, that had him chuckling to himself. It made Albert glance over at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothin’, don’t worry about it,” he said with a smirk.

Albert frowned at him, and while he knew Arthur was baiting him, he couldn’t help but take it anyway. “Oh, come on, just tell me!”

“I dunno if I should tell you, Al,”

“For goodness sake, now you’re just being dramatic!”

“Fine,” he said. “I’d bet you twenty bucks that Abigail’s pregnant.”

The comment took Albert by surprise. “Arthur! You don’t know that!”

“I’m just sayin’! Why else would they want everyone over?”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but maybe they want a small reunion for the sake of spending time together,”

Arthur snorted. “Listen, I ain’t saying they _don’t _want to spend time with everyone, but don’t you think it’s a little fishy that all of a sudden he’s getting everyone together? And why did Charles have to leave earlier than us?”

Albert mulled it over for a moment before his eyes widened. “Oh my, you might actually be right.”

“Thank you,”

“You do realize we still have to look surprised, right?”

“Of course, but I bet you everyone’s thinkin’ it. The only surprise they’ve managed to pull off is having Jack, and even _they _were surprised! Oh, and John stickin’ around was a surprise too.”

“_Arthur!_” 

“It’s true!” 

Albert shook his head. “I’d smack you if I weren’t driving.”

“You regret nursing me back to health yet?”

“Never, but I will personally duct tape your mouth if you keep saying things like that at this lovely gathering they’ve organized,”

Arthur’s smirk grew wider at that, which made Albert instantly regret his words. “I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing, Mr. Mason.”

“I should’ve left you at home,” he huffed despite his blushing. “And for the record, I would hate to stop the delightful noises that come out of you.”

He only laughed despite the color growing in his own cheeks.

When they arrived, there were more cars parked along the street than Arthur had anticipated. Granted, he hadn't expected many, but the sight of four cars parked along the street in front of John’s house had him wondering just who had been invited. Of course, he recognized Kieran and Charles’ car among them. The other two, however, were rentals, which only left Arthur guessing who else he would find inside.

Albert parked along the street and stared at the cars that were lined up ahead in front of the Marston’s ranch style house. He then looked over at Arthur as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I thought you said it started at twelve.”

Arthur shrugged. “Technically eleven-thirty.”

“Arthur!”

“What? There’s nothing wrong with being fashionably late.”

He rolled up the window before eyeing him. “Do you even know what being fashionably late is supposed to imply?”

“That I don’t like being early?”

Albert shook his head. “No. When someone arrives ‘fashionably late’, it’s typically on purpose so one can, in a sense, prove his or her social status.”

“That ain’t true,” he scoffed as he rolled up the sleeves to his maroon button-up. 

“It is!”

“Maybe with the crowd _you _grew up around,”

Albert drew a deep breath to regather his patience. “Arthur, when you _intentionally _arrive late, that is what some people assume, and social implications aside, it’s just flat out rude.”

“Al, I hate to break it to you, but this crew and I were outlaws at one point. We’ve never been on time for anything except con jobs and robberies.”

It was difficult for Albert to stay frustrated at him with the lopsided grin he was sporting. Arthur knew how and when to play up his charm, and despite knowing exactly what he was doing, it always worked on Albert.

The handwritten sign on the gray door told them to come in without knocking, and Arthur could hardly believe his eyes when he did. While it was no surprise to see Mary-Beth, Kieran, and Susan, he had been completely unprepared to see both Lenny and Sadie there. They were all gathered in the living room, chatting and laughing. Susan, Saidie, and John had a drink in their hand while the others had helped themselves to either coffee or a plate of food. 

Albert also noticed the new faces, and judging by Arthur’s reaction, they were people he hadn't seen in a while. He smiled at the rare sight of seeing him speechless, and he slipped his hand into Arthur’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

The gesture pulled him back to reality, and he offered Albert a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

“I take it it’s been a while since you’ve seen those two?” He asked.

“It has,” he replied, “way too long.”

Yet, before they could make it over to the group, Jack had looked up from the toys he was playing with on the coffee table and saw the two of them. He beamed and immediately ran over to give Arthur a tight hug. He grinned from ear to ear as he ruffled his hair before picking him up with ease. 

“Uncle Arthur! You’re strong again!”

“Of course I am!” 

Somehow, Jack managed to smile wider as he hugged Arthur's neck. “Santa finally gave me what I asked for!”

Arthur quirked an eyebrow at that. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“My Christmas wish was for you to feel better, and it came true!”

His smile faltered at that as he exchanged a glance with Albert before pressing a kiss to Jack’s temple. “You’re a good kid, Jack.” 

He then set Jack down, and the boy gave Albert a hug before returning to his toys.

When they made their way over, John was the first among the others to notice their arrival. He smirked at Arthur and raised the bottle of beer that he had in his hand. “Look who finally decided to show up!”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up!” 

“Arthur!” Lenny exclaimed as he pulled him into a hug. “It’s good to see you alive and well!”

“Likewise!” He grinned as he returned the hug.

He pulled away after a moment before his wide smile fell ever so slightly. “Did that letter ever get to you?”

“It did,” he said as he felt his heart ache at the memory. “Thank you for doing that.”

“Of course, anything for you,” he said. “I’m sorry about Hosea.”

“Me too,” Arthur then cleared his throat and decided to change the subject. He didn’t want his thoughts to linger on the loss of Hosea just then, although Arthur couldn’t help but think that the man should’ve been at the gathering with them. “So what’ve you been up to, kid?”

“Oh, you know, just staying low and out of trouble. I moved to New Orleans and got a job there as a writer and musician.”

“Good for you!”

“Alright, my turn,” Sadie said as she made her way over to Arthur to give him a hug as well. “You been stayin’ out of trouble, I hope!”

“As much as I can, but you know me,” he chuckled as he pulled away before gesturing to Albert. “Sadie, Lenny, this is my partner, Albert Mason.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you two,” Albert said.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Sadie replied before eyeing Arthur. “And here I thought I'd never get to see you in a relationship!” 

“I wasn’t even looking for one, honestly,” he said. “It just sorta happened.”

“The best ones usually do,” 

Albert smiled at that before excusing himself to get them both a plate of food.

“He’s cute,” Sadie said as she watched him. “How long have you been together?”

“It’ll be six months in a month,” he answered.

She whistled low. “That’s big for you!”

“Do the two of you have any plans for that milestone?” Lenny asked.

“I don’t think either of us has thought that far ahead, to be honest,” he answered, suddenly feeling unsure of himself. He was still unused to his friends giving attention to his love life, let alone his now successful one. “Nothing big, most likely.”

“You should talk to Mary-Beth. I’m sure she’s got plenty of good ideas.” He said.

Arthur exchanged a look with Sadie, silently pleading for her to dismiss the ridiculous notion. While Lenny meant well, Mary-Beth was a hopeless romantic through and through. She had plenty of wonderful ideas, but Arthur was convinced that none of them would be the right fit for him and Albert. The photographer could be romantic, and Arthur had his own way of showing his affections, but neither of them had a preference for the sort of romance one would find in a rom-com or romance novel.

Yet Sadie said nothing. She only grinned as Lenny led him over to where Mary-Beth and Susan were chatting with Abigail. He instantly regretted mentioning the six months as Lenny brought the three women up to speed on the situation. Mary-Beth’s eyes instantly lit up, and Arthur could see the endless ideas her mind was turning over.

“My goodness, it’s already been almost half a year?” She exclaimed.

“That’s so sweet,” Abigail noted with a smile. “You know, you could always go get photos done.”

“Well, maybe at the start of the day,” Mary-Beth mused as she smoothed her floral sundress. “You should go to that art museum in Denver, maybe even book a suite at one of those fancy hotels in the city! Oh, and you just _have _to watch the sunset together after eating somewhere nice! There’s also a cute drive-in theater in the city. That would be a lovely way to wrap up the evening.”

Abigail did a double-take at that. “There’s a drive-in theater in Denver?” 

“Yes! I know, I would’ve never guessed it, but there is! Kieran and I try to go at least once a month.”

“So, what exactly are you recommending I do?” Arthur asked.

Mary-Beth furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“Do I pick just one thing?”

“Just one? You can't pick just one, Arthur! For crying out loud, this is your celebration of half a year! That’s a whole one hundred eighty-two days! Or twenty-six weeks! You’ve gotta put some thought into somethin’ like that.”

“Oh, I have an idea! What if they wandered around downtown Denver?” Abigail asked.

The suggestion rekindled Mary-Beth’s excitement, and Arthur awkwardly stood there and listened as the two of them discussed how he and Albert should spend the day together.

Susan shook her head and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, Arthur, whatever you do will be fine. My two sense, if you’ll take it from an old woman, is to celebrate the day by doing something only special for you two. Who cares if it’s ‘romantic’? If you ask me, it just needs to be meaningful.”

Her reassuring words were relieving, and he relaxed his shoulders and breathed out a sigh of relief. “The voice of reason yet again. Thank you, Miss Grimshaw.”

She smiled. “Anytime, Arthur.”

He returned to Albert’s side to find him chatting with Sadie, Charles, and John. Arthur was happy to find that Albert seemed to be at ease and enjoying himself. As he made his way over, Albert glanced at him and smiled wide before handing him the plate of food he’d put together for him.

“Arthur! You didn’t tell me this was your bounty hunting friend!”

“My apologies,” he grinned. 

“She was just telling me about—” The ringing of his phone interrupted him, and he took it out of his pocket to glance at the screen. Arthur instantly recognized Heather’s face that was the contact photo, and Albert excused himself and walked into the kitchen to answer the call. 

Arthur shot Sadie a skeptical look as he set his plate to the side on a nearby shelf, suddenly losing his appetite. “So what was it were you tellin’ him about now?”

“Just about what you used to get up to with John and Hosea,” she replied.

While Arthur tried to figure out just what exactly she had said, Albert leaned against the counter as he chatted with Heather. 

“Does Arthur still have that janky flip-phone?” She asked after some small talk.

Albert laughed. “That he does! He refuses to get a smartphone since they’re easier to track.” 

“Well, does he have a data plan?”

“No,”

“Then he’s right,” she said. “However, that makes it impossible for me to text him a link. Can I send it to you instead and have you show it to him?”

“I don’t see why not,” he replied, although he couldn’t help but catch the eagerness in her voice. “You sound pleased with yourself.”

“You’ll see why in a minute, Albie. Just tell Arthur I wish him a happy early birthday.”

He furrowed his brow at that as he hung up. It didn’t take long for the text to come in, and he resisted clicking on it right away as he walked over to Arthur.

“Heather sent me this link and told me to wish you a happy early birthday,” 

Arthur frowned, clearly confused. “Why would she do that?” 

He shrugged. “She didn’t say, but I’ll let you have the honors of clicking it.”

He squinted at the phone’s screen as Albert held it out to him before tapping the blue hyperlink in the text bubble. While the webpage loaded, Sadie and John exchanged a confused look. As Albert explained who Heather was, Arthur realized that the link had taken him to a news article. When he read the headline, he froze. He reread the words several times, feeling his heart pound in his chest. His eyes flicked up to John and he immediately shoved the phone into his hand. 

John gave him a questioning look before humoring him by reading the headline himself. It was his turn to stare at the screen in disbelief before his wide eyes met Arthur’s. 

“Holy shit, is that real?” He demanded.

“Has to be,”

Charles and Sadie glanced at the screen, and a twisted grin pulled at the corner of her mouth. 

“Van der Linde gang member, Micah Bell, shot and killed while robbing bank,” she read. “Well, I’d say that has to be one of the best headlines I’ve ever read.”

Albert took his phone to read the article himself. “_What?_”

“Does it say anything about Dutch?” Arthur asked, both fearing and already knowing the answer.

Albert’s eyebrows drew together as he skimmed the brief article and shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not.”

Arthur’s heart sank. Deep down, he knew Dutch wasn’t the type to get caught. The man had too many years of experience under his belt, and Arthur realized that the only way he’d wind up in cuffs or dead was if he allowed it. Arthur wouldn’t be free until then, would have to keep up with his faked death and stay under the radar. The realization made the weight of that burden feel even heavier than before.

The photographer lifted his gaze to meet Arthur’s where he saw the dismay in his blue eyes. Albert’s heart broke at the sight, and he gave his hand a gentle squeeze. 

Arthur offered him a tight smile before speaking. “Where did the article say they were?”

“Indianapolis,”

“Arthur, honey," Sadie said, "that man ain’t ever going to find you."

“You don’t know that,”

“Trust me, I will personally make sure he don’t _ever_ make it across the Colorado state line,”

“And besides, I’m sure Heather already has someone on top of it,” Albert added.

Arthur only nodded, although he still doubted that was possible.

John drew a deep breath. “Well, I guess we should make that announcement to everyone else.” 

With that, John made his way over to Abigail. It took some help from Susan to get the others to quiet down, and once the room was quiet, John cleared his throat. 

“Turns out there’s some unexpected good news that needs sharing,” he started as he glanced at Arthur. “We’ve just been told, thanks to Albert’s sister, that Micah Bell’s dead, and damn does it feel good to say that out loud!”

The silence quickly broke out into ecstatic shouts and applause, and those who had drinks clinked their glasses together. His friends’ reaction brought a smile to Arthur’s face, and it helped him push his fears to the back of his mind for now.

Abigail allowed the celebration to last a few moments longer before she had Susan silence them again with an ear-splitting whistle. She thanked her and took hold of John’s arm. “We also have another announcement, and I’m so thankful you all were able to make it.”

Arthur felt a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth as he quietly elbowed Albert in his side. The photographer shot him a warning look, and he had to bite his tongue to keep his grin from growing any wider.

Although it seemed Abigail couldn’t help herself either from smiling wide. “Well, shoot, we’re expecting!” 

Joy rippled through the room once again as John kissed Abigail’s cheek, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught Sadie’s smug grin. 

He looked over at her with a knowing look. “Let me guess, you called it too?”

“Obviously,” She replied.

“Both of you are terrible,” Albert sighed. 

“And you owe me twenty bucks,”

The photographer only rolled his eyes, and Arthur excused himself before walking over to John and Abigail. Now that his suspicions had been confirmed, he could clearly see the exhaustion behind their eyes. If this pregnancy was anything like Abigail’s first, she was no doubt having morning sickness already while John was worrying himself sick. Back then, they didn’t have Jack to worry about on top of everything else, and Arthur had no doubt that the boy was unintentionally adding to their tiredness. 

“Congratulations!” He said with a grin as he clapped John on the back.

“Were you surprised?” John asked.

Arthur snorted. “Are you kiddin’ me? I can read you like an open book, Marston.”

He laughed. “You always have.”

“Speakin’ of which, you two look dog tired, and it ain’t like gettin’ sleep is gonna get any easier from here on out,”

“Thanks for the reminder,” John scoffed.

He ignored the snarky comment. “Why don’t you let me take Jack for a few days while you two treat yourselves to a, shit, what do they call it? Stay-cation? Or hell, go somewhere if you want, but let me watch him for a while and let you two have some peace and quiet before your new addition arrives.”

John blinked before exchanging a surprised look with Abigail. “You’d really do that for us?”

“Of course!” He replied. “You two are some of the only family I’ve got.”

Arthur didn’t have to explain any further for John and Abigail to catch what he truly meant by that. They knew Arthur would go through hell or high water for them, and they especially knew Arthur would look after Jack as his own. Abigail smiled at him with glassy eyes before wrapping her arms around him.

“Thank you, Arthur! You have no idea what that means to me.”

“Oh, I think I have some idea,” he chuckled.

“You’re a good man, Arthur Morgan,” John mused fondly. 

“I ain’t nothin’ of the sort,” he huffed. 

“Are Charles and Albert fine with this?” Abigail asked.

“Sure,” he said. While he hadn’t actually brought up the idea with them yet, he was certain they wouldn’t have a problem with having Jack over. “Just let me know when you’d like me to pick him up once you’ve made your plans.”

“I don’t know what to say,” John said as he ran a hand through his hair. “I owe you big time, Arthur.”

“You don’t owe me shit. It’s the least I can do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	6. In Memoriam

It was two weeks after the announcement when Jack was dropped off at their cabin. Both John and Abigail had thanked Arthur profusely once again for his far too generous offer. Although Arthur was quick to dismiss their comments regarding his good nature, and soon after, the Marstons were headed off to their weekend getaway.

Arthur carried Jack’s bags inside as the boy followed. He was overflowing with excitement, talking about everything and anything as Arthur helped him get settled in a bedroom that was down the hall from his. He then showed him where the guest bathroom was before giving him a tour of the rest of the house. They ended at the kitchen where Albert and Charles were chatting. Jack lit up at the sight of them, and he ran over to Charles, who easily scooped him up into his arms. Charles smiled wide as Jack wrapped his arms around his neck, and when he set him down, the boy hugged Albert around his waist.

After having lunch at the house, the four of them began their drive to the Denver Zoo. It was a place Jack had never been before, and the kid could hardly contain his excitement the second he found out. Arthur had hoped he would calm down by the time they had merged onto Interstate-Twenty-Five, yet Jack eagerly bounced in his seat and asked them all a thousand questions. Arthur glanced in the rearview mirror to find that Albert, who had volunteered to sit in the back, was now regretting his decision to do so. Jack seemed to be determined to talk Albert’s ear off about the new books he’d been reading as well as his favorite shows.

“Next time, wait until we’re _actually_ there to announce where we’re going,” Charles chuckled.

“It’s been a while,” Arthur huffed. “Slipped my mind.”

Charles’ mirth disappeared as he gave him a sympathetic look. “Are you sure you can do this?”

“That was over ten years ago,” he replied quietly, “I’ll be fine.”

He eyed him, knowing that ten years for Arthur were more like five due to the way he'd repressed his trauma. “If it ever gets to be too much, I don’t mind looking after him until John and Abigail return.”

“Thanks, Charles,”

While they made good time, the hour or so drive had felt more like three, and Arthur found that he was already conspiring ways to get the kid’s energy out before they left the zoo. 

When they arrived, it took all three of them to keep Jack closeby. The boy was naturally curious, and his curious nature, combined with his excitement, made it difficult to keep him within reach. Eventually, Arthur took hold of Jack's hand as they entered the zoo, and he couldn't help but smirk at Jack's futile attempt to wriggle free.

The hand holding didn't last long before Jack begged to ride on Arthur's shoulders. With a quiet chuckle, Arthur hoisted him up and held onto the boy's legs as they walked towards the lion exhibit.

At Jack's request, they bore right towards the pachyderms and primate exhibits once the boy had seen enough of the lions. As Albert walked alongside Arthur, he couldn't help but watch the man in wonder. Arthur had a way with the boy he'd never been able to see before. The way he engaged with Jack revealed an enduring patience and gentleness he only saw in tender moments, and it left Albert smiling to himself. Showering Jack, with such heartfelt affection, came so naturally for Arthur. It was utterly endearing, and the photographer somehow found his love growing even more for the man.

Jack had been quietly observing for a while before a sudden gasp escaped him. Arthur looked up at him, worried at first before he saw that the boy was pointing at something.

"Can we go on the train?" He asked as he bounced up and down on his shoulders.

Arthur stared in the direction he was pointing and saw the bright red train he was referring to. "Sure! I don't see why not."

"I think I'm going to pass so I can get some good pictures," Albert said. "I'm sure the Marstons would love a few photos of this."

"I'm staying with Albert," Charles added. "You two enjoy yourselves."

Arthur nodded as he set Jack down. The two of them then grabbed a ticket, and after they'd taken a seat by the front, Albert snapped a photo before he and Charles began to make their way further down the track.

After Albert adjusted the settings on his phone, he looked up at Charles and smiled. "I never knew Arthur was so good with children."

His brow furrowed slightly as he met Albert's eyes. "Has he told you about his past? About Eliza and Isaac?"

"Briefly," he replied as his smile fell.

Charles nodded to himself. "Train's coming."

Albert thanked him as he got his phone ready and snapped a few pictures.

"Did he tell you that Isaac was no older than Jack when it happened?"

His eyes widened. "No, he didn't. My goodness, the poor child."

"I wasn't around yet when it happened, but John never liked to recall the memory. When he did, he told me how Arthur was never the same after that. Losing Isaac and Eliza hit him hard."

Albert watched the train as it rounded a bend. "I assume there's a reason why you're telling me this now?"

He shrugged. "A part of me is concerned for him. He hasn't lived under the same roof as Jack for nearly two years, and with the kid being five, I'm not sure how it's going to affect him. Then again, it may not affect him at all. I just wanted you to be in the know."

"I appreciate that, Charles. Getting Arthur to talk about things is like trying to force a rock to talk sometimes."

He laughed. "I know! He's tighter than a steel trap when he wants to be."

They walked to the end of the line and waited for the train to arrive. When Arthur walked over with Jack, the boy was pulling at his hand and begging to go on the carousel ride. Charles left Albert’s side and took the kid’s hand in his as they walked over to the carousel entrance. Albert followed them as Arthur sidled up to him. As they walked behind Charles and Jack, Albert glanced over at Arthur. The man looked more tired than usual despite his smile, and the photographer couldn’t help but recall his conversation with Charles. 

After waiting in the short line, Jack went straight for one of the tiger figures. Arthur chuckled at the boy’s eagerness as Charles allowed himself to be pulled along. As he helped him up, Arthur and Albert sat in a decorated, high-backed bench behind them. Charles, unsure of how much weight the camel figure beside him could hold, simply leaned against it as the three of them waited for the ride to start.

Jack was practically radiating with excitement, and when the ride finally started, he smiled from ear to ear. 

Albert scooted closer to Arthur, opting to have their sides flush together despite the amount of space they had on the bench. Arthur smiled beside him as Albert took hold of his hand. 

“How are you doing?” He quietly asked.

Arthur furrowed his brow as he looked over at him. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Charles mentioned a few things to me.”

“‘Course he did,” he muttered.

Albert chuckled and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “We care about you.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I’m fine.”

“Can you promise me that you’ll let me know when you’re not?”

He was silent for a moment as he watched Jack giggle on the tiger that slowly went up and down. “I promise.”

Albert gave his hand a gentle squeeze to show his appreciation before his gaze shifted to Jack as well.

It took them over an hour to get to the other side of the zoo where the Tropical Discovery exhibit was. Albert was the only one out of the four of them who wasn’t too keen on exploring the exhibit. Yet, Jack was set on seeing the reptiles, and Arthur taking his hand was the only convincing he needed. 

Arthur, however, was completely unprepared for how many snakes there would be. He tensed as they walked by the glass tanks that were within the walls. A chill went down his spine at the sight of them, and he tried to disguise it by rolling his shoulders. While it wasn’t obvious that the serpents made him uncomfortable, Albert could tell by his sweaty palm that he was nervous. 

“I didn’t know you had an aversion to snakes,” Albert mused quietly. 

“It wasn’t always like that,”

“What happened?” 

“I got between John and a copperhead when walking a trail and ended up getting bit. It hurt like hell,” he replied. “They also remind me of Micah for some reason.”

Albert couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him. “I can see that!”

Albert’s amusement made Arthur smile, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, it even helped him relax. 

They continued through the exhibit, and when they rounded a corner, Albert yelped and nearly jumped into Albert’s arms. Arthur swore as the sudden movement startled him, his arms instantly wrapping around the photographer out of habit. Albert’s hands gripped Arthur’s shoulders tightly, his head pressed against his chest, and Arthur could’ve sworn he heard the man exhale a string of curses under his breath. 

Charles turned and raised an eyebrow at the sight. “Albert?”

“No one told me that there would be _spiders _in here!”

Arthur exchanged a confused look with Charles before examining the tank to his right. Sure enough, a tarantula was sitting in the corner closest to the glass. It was huge, about the size of his palm from the look of it. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing before looking down at Albert only to find that the photographer’s eyes were still tightly closed.

“It ain’t gettin’ out, Al,”

“I don’t care!” 

“Albert—”

“No! There’s no way in hell I’m looking at it!”

It was difficult for Arthur to stifle his laughter at that, and he had to draw a deep breath to extinguish the impulse. “I ain’t gonna make you look at it, but we can’t stand here forever either.”

“Then lead the way, but I’m going to keep my eyes closed, thank you very much,”

“I’ll help you!” Jack said as he tugged on Albert’s button-up. 

Arthur smiled to himself as he removed Albert’s hands from his shoulders and turned him around so Jack could take his hand. However, he kept his hands on the photographer’s shoulders to help guide him past the tank, and once they were through, he gave Albert’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. 

“Congrats, city-slicker, you’ve made it out alive,” he teased in his ear.

Albert rolled his eyes. “Living in the city has _nothing _to do with arachnophobia!” 

His comment made him chuckle as he gave him a pat on the back. “Whatever you say.” 

When they left the zoo, Charles offered to take the backseat with Jack for their drive back. While Albert was fond of the boy, he took Charles up on his offer and sat in the front passenger seat. As he pulled his seat forward to give Charles more room, Arthur took his place behind the steering wheel and pulled out of the zoo’s parking lot. 

Arthur had been hoping that the outing would drain Jack’s energy, yet the boy was still full of it when they returned to the house. When they stepped through the door, Jack ran over to his backpack, where he pulled a small foam football. He then hurried over to Arthur and asked (with the largest puppy eyes Arthur had ever seen) if he could toss it with him in the backyard. Arthur didn’t have it in him to say no, and while they threw the football back and forth outside, Charles and Albert made dinner for the four of them. 

It took them under an hour to get everything ready, and when Albert called them in for dinner, Jack came rushing inside. Arthur, however, was clearly starting to tire out as he trailed behind him. Albert couldn’t blame him. The boy was comparable to the energizer bunny, and it didn’t help that he had wanted to do most of the day’s activities with his favorite uncle. 

After dinner, they ended the day by letting Jack watch an episode of a kids show before Arthur helped him get ready for bed. As Charles changed the channel to Live PD, Albert watched Arthur usher Jack up the stairs until they disappeared around the corner.

Albert watched the show for a moment before turning to Charles. “I didn’t know you liked this show.”

He shrugged. “Arthur, John, and I used to watch it when we could. We’d sometimes make it a drinking game or place bets on what would happen.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he said. “We lived a different life then. Sometimes we’d joke about the things we’d be caught doing. Harmless stuff, of course. Some nights we’d recognize the people, and other times we’d even watch it to keep an eye on bounties that were going around.”

Albert furrowed his brow. “You recognized some people?” 

“Occasionally, mostly people from the Central Lowlands or the Appalachian Mountains,”

“I knew you two were part of a gang, but I never considered that,”

Charles flashed him a smile. “We weren’t the best people two years ago.”

The concept of Arthur and Charles consistently breaking the law was difficult for Albert to wrap his mind around. He had a lot of respect for the two of them, would even trust them with his life, and to think they used to be swindlers and thieves was nearly incomprehensible. 

It was hardly nine-thirty when Arthur reappeared on the stairs’ landing and leaned over the railing. His hair was damp from a shower, and he had changed into his sleeping clothes. “While I would love to stay up with you all, I’m going to bed. That boy’s tuckered me out.”

“I’m not far behind,” Albert replied as he rose from his seat. 

“Goodnight, you two, see you in the morning,” Charles said.

Arthur was already on the bed reading when Albert entered the room. The reading glasses he wore only made him look more tired, and Albert did his best to get ready for bed in a timely fashion. Within fifteen minutes, he joined Arthur on the bed and wrapped his arm around his waist. The gesture made Arthur smile as he returned his glasses to their case and set the book on the nightstand. 

Arthur rolled onto his side so he could face Albert, and he chuckled to himself as the photographer brushed their noses against each other. It was a sweet, simple thing, and Arthur found his eyes closing on their own accord as he relished in Albert’s gentle touches. He then felt the photographer dip his head underneath his chin to mouth at his neck and jawline. The touch had goosebumps spreading over Arthur’s skin, causing his heart to flutter against his ribs. He groaned as he felt the scrape of Albert’s teeth against his skin, and his hands reflexively reached out to grasp his hips to pull him flush against him. Arthur slipped a hand underneath his waistband and smirked at the gasp that left Albert as he grasped his rear.

"Your hands are like ice!" He hissed.

"Then warm me up, Mr. Mason,” Arthur whispered into his ear. 

A low sound in the back of Albert’s throat left his lips at that, causing him to roll his hips in a slow grind against Arthur’s. 

Arthur’s smirk widened at his reaction, yet as he removed his hand to grip the waistband of Albert’s pants, he heard the door behind him open. He tensed and looked over his shoulder to find Jack peering through the door, his eyes wide in fear and his cheeks tearstained. It took a conscious effort for Arthur to keep himself from groaning at the interruption.

“I had a bad dream, Uncle Arthur,” 

He sighed as he untangled his arm from around Albert and gestured for him to come in. Arthur didn’t have to ask to know what the boy wanted. He’d had enough experience from John’s younger years to know that the kid wanted to sleep in his bed with him. In fact, the look on Jack’s face had him recalling those memories as if it were yesterday when John was twelve and terrified to sleep alone. 

Jack didn’t hesitate to crawl onto the bed, and Arthur scooted over as he lifted the covers so he could settle in between them. The boy snuggled into Arthur’s chest, and the man reflexively wrapped an arm around him as he rubbed his back. 

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked. 

“It was that man again, the one that talked to us when we were fishing,” he sobbed. “In my dream, he found pa and took him! We couldn’t find him anywhere!”

Arthur gently shushed him as he held him close, his eyes flitting up to meet Albert’s confused and concerned stare. “That man ain’t ever gonna find any of us, I promise.”

Jack nodded as he clung to his shirt.

“I have an idea,” Albert said. “How would you like to hear a story?” 

The boy wiped his face on Arthur’s shirt before turning to look at Albert. “What kind of story?”

“Any kind you want!”

“Can you tell me one about knights and dragons?”

Albert smiled as he scooted closer, beginning to weave together a charming story about a courageous knight who befriended fearsome yet kind dragons. He told Jack how the knight feared dragons, that even a drawing of one was enough to make the man shake in the knees, but how one day he’d found himself lost deep in a tall, enchanted forest with trees that could talk and fairies that led him to the guardians of the wood. The guardians turned out to be dragons, ancients of old, and while the knight feared them, he faced them with courage. The dragons saw the man’s heart to be good, and that he often put others’ needs before his own. They gave him a scale to help him remember his journey and to always value love over fame and fortune, before sending him on his way. 

Jack was sound asleep not long after Albert finished his story. Even Arthur found himself feeling the warm pull of sleep. He smiled to himself as he kissed the photographer.

“Thanks, Al,” he whispered.

“Of course, he’s a lovely listener,”

“Well, a storyteller as wonderful as you, I ain’t surprised,”

Albert’s eyes crinkled with his smile as he reached out to brush Arthur’s hair out of his face. “Goodnight, Arthur.”

“Night,”

Albert awoke the next morning to find a hefty weight on his chest. He frowned as he blinked open his eyes. Beanie didn’t weigh nearly as much as what he was feeling, and it was only when he looked down when he realized why. Jack was still sound asleep, spread out across his chest, and the quiet snores that escaped him made him smile. Beanie was also there, claiming what little space was left.

He looked over to Arthur’s side of the bed only to find that the man wasn’t there. Yet, after glancing at the clock, he wasn’t surprised. It was eight in the morning, and Arthur was usually on his feet by seven. 

Albert was amazed when he somehow eased himself out from underneath both Jack and Beanie without waking them, and he stretched before quietly making his way down the stairs. When he reached the main level, Arthur was standing in the kitchen leaning against the counter with a fresh cup of coffee in his hand. Yet, the man looked anything but relaxed and well-rested as he stared off at nothing in particular. The sight made Albert frown as he walked over to him. 

“How’d you sleep?” 

The question startled Arthur out of his thoughts as he looked up at him. He studied Albert for a moment before he sighed, remembering the promise he’d made to the photographer yesterday. “I’ve had better nights.”

Albert gave him a sympathetic look as he stood next to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He was quiet for a while, his fingers absentmindedly running over the smooth surface of his coffee mug. “It felt...strange having Jack there last night. When I closed my eyes, I had to remind myself who it was I had in my arms.”

“That’s not all of it, isn’t it?” 

Arthur shook his head. “I dreamt about that day again, and it left me thinkin’ that if I had been a better father, that he’d still be alive, that maybe if I had taken care of them like I should've, they wouldn’t have died.”

“Arthur—”

“I know, there’s nothing that can be done by pondering what-ifs,”

The reply sounded rehearsed to Albert as if he’d recited some kind of advice he’d been told hundreds of times. The photographer shook his head. “That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

Arthur looked up at him with a furrowed brow. “What?”

“I was going to say that, from what I can tell, that you were doing your best at the time. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like to balance your ties to the gang _and _a child and his mother. That couldn’t have been easy. How old were you at the time?”

He shrugged. “Twenty-four, maybe.”

Albert felt his heart twist in his chest at the thought. “Arthur, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. There’s nothing that can be done, anyway.”

He took Arthur’s face in his hands and stared into his sorrowful eyes before pressing his forehead against Arthur’s. 

Somehow, the gesture was all the comfort Arthur needed. He closed his eyes as they stood like that for a moment before Albert eventually let go.

“Who was Jack talking about last night?” Albert asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee. “The man who took John in his dream?”

He sighed as he ran a hand over his face. “Before Ross, another man, named Milton, was tracking us. The bastard somehow found me when I took Jack fishing and threatened me right in front of the boy. I would’ve slugged him or worse if Jack weren’t there.”

“That poor child,”

“I know, I’m glad he never knew about Ross,”

Albert shook his head at the thought. If Ross had given _him _chills, he couldn’t imagine what the agent would’ve done to Jack’s nightmares. 

When Jack finally woke up, Arthur made him breakfast and the three of them decided to take it easy that day. Charles had gone to work earlier that morning, and with it raining on and off, there wasn’t much that they could do. They made an impressive blanket fort together, drew, and let Jack fingerpaint before seeing a matinee at the local theater. 

The rain had cleared up by the time Charles had returned home. He’d arrived just before dinner, and once dishes and food were put away, the four of them went outside to roast marshmallows over the firepit. Arthur, of course, had to help Jack make his s’mores. The boy’s first attempt at it by himself had been nothing short of a disaster. Melted marshmallow had gotten all over his shirt, and chocolate had smeared all over his face and hands. Arthur had tried to clean the mess, and Albert and Charles laughed while he nearly wrestled the boy during the process. 

When they cut Jack off from the marshmallows, the boy asked if they could camp outside. While Albert checked the weather for the night, Charles decided to turn in. Tomorrow was an early day for him at work, and while he loved nature, he knew sleep would be scarce with Jack’s night out ‘camping’. 

According to Albert’s weather app, the forecast for the night predicted clear skies with a low of sixty degrees. It would be a nice enough night for glamping, and Arthur disappeared inside to get a pop-up tent, a large sleeping bag, and a few blankets. He returned not long after with them underneath his arms, and he smiled to himself when he found Albert teaching Jack the different constellations in the night sky. 

The tent was easy to set up, having only taken Arthur five minutes at most. Yet, fitting all three of them inside was its own endeavor. The two-person capacity made itself known as Albert and Arthur tried to get comfortable, and Arthur found that he regretted not buying the three-person tent. He and Albert were not, by any definition, small men. They were both over six feet tall, and having a small child in the tent with them only made that fact more known to them. Yet they had nothing bigger, and Jack ended up falling asleep nearly on top of them both anyway. 

Arthur stared up at the polyester ceiling, listening to the choir of crickets, and Jack’s deep breathing fill the silence. Yet, the sounds of the forest did nothing to ease his mind as old memories rose to the surface. Hosea used to take him camping when he was young. It used to be just the two of them for the longest time. When the gang life would get hairy, the older outlaw would take him away from it for a night or two out in whatever wilderness they could find. It was how Arthur found his love for the outdoors despite, for the most part, growing up in the city. He’d carried on the tradition with Isaac when he could, and doing the same for Jack now was bittersweet.

The feeling of fingers running through his hair pulled him away from his thoughts, and he looked over to find Albert studying him.

“A penny for your thoughts?” He asked softly.

A wistful smile graced his lips. “I was just thinkin’ about the times Hosea took me camping.”

“I didn’t know the two of you did that,”

“We did. He taught me all he knew about survival. There were times we’d go out with nothing and start from scratch.” He exhaled a deep sigh. “I still read his letter every once in a while. He told me not to blame myself for what happened, but sometimes I can’t help but wonder how different things could’ve been if I had been there.”

“You’re only human, Arthur,” Albert replied. “There was no way for you to know, and you tried your damn hardest doing what you could.”

Arthur closed his eyes as he took in his words. “I dunno, Al, sometimes I wonder how true that is.”

“Well, regardless of how you feel, know that it _is _true,”

“How do you know?” His question was sincere, lacking any kind of sarcasm or derision. 

Albert stopped running his fingers through his hair to hold his chin, and the change caused Arthur to open his eyes again. The photographer offered him a small smile. “Arthur, I’ve known since the moment I met you.”

He scoffed quietly. “Know _what _exactly?” 

“Well, dear, to be frank with you, you’ve never been one to half-ass _anything_, not even chopping wood for a city-slicker you’d just met,”

Arthur chuckled at that, and Albert was more than happy to see the genuine grin that twisted his lips. “You’ve got me there.”

“You can’t chain yourself to your past mistakes, and the choices you make today don’t have to be filled with the pain of the past,”

“Thank you, Al, I don’t know what I’d do without you,”

“Please, it’s the least I can do,”

The Marstons returned early in the afternoon, and Arthur couldn’t help but smile at how well-rested they looked. Yet regardless of how wonderful their weekend had been, they were more than happy to be reunited with Jack. John lifted the boy into his arms with ease as Abigail kissed his cheek several times. 

The sweet reunion made Arthur’s smile wider. It seemed to him that John was finally taking his role as a family man seriously, and oddly enough, it filled his chest with a swell of pride towards his brother. Perhaps he had finally grown up in his own way and had even started to take his new lease on life seriously.

When Albert handed Abigail the photos he’d printed of their adventures, she thanked him profusely and hugged him.

“You didn’t have to do that!” She exclaimed as she fought back tears.

“I know I didn’t, but I wanted to,” Albert replied. 

“Thank you for everything,” John said as he set Jack down. “Please pass that along to Charles, too.”

“We will,” Arthur said.

Jack then went over to hug Arthur before hugging Albert as well. “Bye, Uncle Arthur! Bye, Uncle Albert! Thanks for everything!”

Arthur grinned as he waved goodbye, and as they drove off, he turned to find Albert suddenly fighting back his own tears. He furrowed his brow, thoroughly confused by the watery look in his eyes. “Al? Are you alright?” 

He nodded as he brought a hand to his face before clearing his throat. “Yes, quite, I’ve just never heard him refer to me as an uncle before.”

Arthur chuckled to himself. “Well, it only makes sense.”

“I know, but I guess the sentiment speaks volumes to me,” he replied before flashing him a smile. "That was a wonderful idea to have him over, Arthur. I had a lovely time!"

Arthur nodded as he watched the Marston’s corolla disappear down the hill. He swallowed and twisted his watch around his wrist as he sat on the stone wall that ran along their driveway. His throat felt tight at the thought of what Albert was potentially hinting at. It terrified him to even think about it, but Albert had already sacrificed so much for him. Surely he could look past his own fears to give Albert what he wanted.

He could free himself from the pain of his past, couldn’t he?

"You know we could always…" Arthur cleared his throat as he gestured vaguely in front of him, "eventually adopt, if you wanted."

Albert had to take a double-take, unsure if he'd heard Arthur right. From his perspective, the suggestion had come out of nowhere. “I beg your pardon?”

He drew a deep breath. “You know, adopt.”

The photographer mentally replayed their conversation over in his mind, and he almost winced when he realized how his words had come across. “Oh, Arthur, I couldn’t do that to you.”

Arthur blinked. “But you said—”

“I know what I said,” he sighed. Albert then sat down beside him and took hold of his hand. “You mean the world to me, and I know how hard this weekend was for you. It was a delightful weekend, but I could see that underneath it must’ve been like salt in a healing wound.”

He sighed and stared at the asphalt. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry! I’ve never _wanted _to be a parent, believe it or not. Did you see how tired the Marstons were at their little get together two weeks ago? How tired they _still _look?”

Arthur laughed. “I did.”

“No,” he grinned as he shook his head. “I’d much rather be an uncle, thank you very much!”

He relaxed at that and rested his head on Albert’s shoulder. “Thank you, Al. I don’t know how I got so lucky with finding someone like you.”

The photographer shrugged. “I’d like to think it was fate.”

“It was somethin’ alright,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy FRICK it's been a while!!!
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you for your patience with this update ;; It's been FOREVER! Life has been busy and with my health, I only have so much energy. Thank you for sticking around <3 <3 <3 I greatly appreciate it!


	7. Written in the Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first of all, thank you for your patience with this fic!
> 
> Secondly, the restaurant is a real place in CO. [Here is the link!](https://flagstaffhouse.com/)

Mary-Beth rested her chin in her hand as she watched Arthur work on the piping underneath their kitchen sink. Their property manager had a notorious reputation for taking a while to get someone to fix miscellaneous things around the house. Now, however, they didn't have to wait around for a repairman. Arthur was a jack of all trades, with too many skills to count hidden in his sleeves. Mary-Beth wasn't sure when or how he’d picked them up along the way, but she was beyond grateful for his know-how and generosity. 

Her eyes flitted to a calendar that hung on their fridge, causing her thoughts to take a sharp turn. "Have you planned anything yet for the seventh?"

"'Course I have," he replied from underneath the sink.

"You got a reservation at a fancy restaurant?"

He scoffed. "Now why on earth would I need that?"

"Arthur!" She chided.

"What?"

"Tomorrow is your six-month anniversary! It's a special milestone, and you ain't even gonna take him out somewhere nice for dinner?"

He muttered under his breath. "We're simple folk, Mary-Beth."

She frowned, nearly pouted at him. Her eyes settled on the landline beside her, and with a mischievous grin, she dialed the number of her favorite restaurant. 

Even with his head inside the sink cabinet, Arthur heard the dial tone. He swore as he sat up abruptly, and swore louder when his forehead struck the top of the cabinet. A burst of fiery pain settled in the center of his brow, and he hissed out a string of curses as he carefully eased himself out from underneath the sink. 

"Mary-Beth,” he huffed as he massaged his forehead, his head ringing like the phone in her hand, “I swear if you're doing what I think you're doing—”

She held up a finger to silence him. "Yes! I'd like to make a dinner reservation for two for the seventh at six… Morgan. Excellent, thank you so much!"

As she hung up, Arthur groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told you—”

“It’s only a reservation, Arthur,” she said with a warm smile, “you can always cancel it if Albert feels the same way about it as you do.”

Arthur sighed and eyed the calendar on the fridge. He had been hoping to keep his plans a surprise, but now he felt obligated to clue Albert in on Mary-Beth’s reservation. Of course, he could easily cancel the dinner plans she had made for them. She had even told him he could. Yet, he didn’t have the heart. The way Mary-Beth lit up at ‘helping’ him with his romantic endeavors stole his free-will. Then again, what was the harm in letting Al have a say in where they ate? Doing so wouldn’t spoil the whole evening as Arthur still had a surprise in the works. 

With a sigh, he ducked back underneath the sink once again and preoccupied himself by finishing up what he’d started. As he tweaked a few things, he heard Miss Grimshaw enter the kitchen. Even with his head inside the cabinet, he could tell it was her by her footsteps. He knew the sound of her strides like the back of his hand. When he and John were younger and had been more mischievous, he’d been able to tell when to tuck tail and run based on the sound of them. Miss Grimshaw, regardless of his age, had always been a force to be reckoned with, and her footsteps were the harbinger of whatever well-deserved scolding was in store. Yet, even with those days now long gone, he still found himself briefly tensing before forcing himself to relax. 

“What in the world is going on here?” She asked. “The two of you are making an awful lot of racket!”

“Arthur had nothing planned for his six-month anniversary tomorrow, so I made a reservation for him,”

“That ain’t what I said!” He huffed. 

“As I said, Arthur, you are more than welcome to cancel it,”

“You’ve been writing too many damn romance novels,” Susan said. “Don’t disrupt Arthur’s plans any further, you hear?” 

She sighed as she leaned back in her chair. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And Arthur, don’t put up such a fuss, even you have to admit your romancing needs help sometimes,”

Arthur indulged himself in a heavy eye roll, knowing neither of them could see it. “Yes’m.”

\--

Arthur couldn’t shake his nerves all day. Even working at the ranch hadn’t distracted him from the butterflies endlessly fluttering in his stomach. He’d woken up with the nervous energy tingling throughout him, and it made him feel ridiculous. Arthur felt like a teenager stumbling through his first crush all over again, except he knew what he had with Albert was the farthest thing from just a crush. He hadn’t loved or been devoted to anyone else so seriously. Even his love for Mary had had its limits. Yet Arthur wouldn’t think twice to lay his life on the line for Albert. 

Today marked six months since they’d confessed their feelings for each other. Six months since Arthur had nearly lost Albert to a patch of thin ice and frigid water. That day had been the catalyst for everything else, had even saved his life in more ways than one. There would never be enough words to express all that he felt for Albert, and the more Arthur lingered on that thought, the more he realized it was the source of his nerves. Making the day special was the closest he would get to expressing that, and whether he chose to admit it or not, he felt the need to make it as close to perfect as he could get.

When he returned home from work, he found Albert working on his laptop at the breakfast counter. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he stared through his reading glasses at the screen, his chin resting in his hand. The sight made Arthur smile, and he made his way over to Albert’s side and pressed his lips to his temple. Albert jumped and placed his hand over his heart with a shaky exhale, which caused Arthur to laugh.

“You scared me, Arthur!” Albert chuckled. 

“Wasn’t like I sneaked up on you,” he grinned.

“You know how I get with my work!”

Arthur’s eyes flitted to the screen where he had a photo editing program running. On the side were a few pictures open of a happy couple that he didn’t recognize. The one Albert was currently working on had them embracing one another with their foreheads pressed together. “What’re you working on?”

“I photographed an engagement today,” he answered as he saved his work before spinning the barstool so he could face Arthur. “They’ve already asked me to be their wedding photographer, too.”

“Can’t say I blame them,” he mused, “you’re amazing at capturing moments.”

He smiled as his eyes lowered, his face flushing a light shade of pink. “You are too kind, Arthur.” 

Arthur gently lifted his chin and kissed him. “I hope you don’t have any plans tonight.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“It’s our six-month anniversary today,” he scratched the back of his neck as he felt his nerves return with renewed strength, “I thought I’d surprise you with a few things.”

Albert’s eyes widened as panic filled them. “That’s _today?_ Oh, good heavens! I can’t believe I forgot! I knew it was coming up, but—”

“Al, it’s no big deal!” He assured him. “I’ve got it taken care of.”

Regardless, Albert covered his face with his hands and shook his head. “But it’s a big deal to _me!_”

Arthur rolled his eyes before gently prying Albert’s hands away from his face. “You’re fine, Al. I promise. Although there is one thing I wanted to ask you.”

His brow furrowed. “And that is?”

“Mary-Beth made a reservation for us at Flagstaff. It’s up to you if you want to keep it.”

“Why me?” 

He shrugged. “I’ve already got something else planned, but I want you to have a say in what we do, too.”

“Can I ask what it is you have in mind?”

A smug smile twisted Arthur’s lips. “You can, but I ain’t tellin’.”

Albert chuckled before cradling Arthur’s face with his hands and kissing his forehead. “I still can’t comprehend how I was ever lucky enough to find you.”

Arthur blushed at that and offered a sheepish grin. “Can’t quite say you were _lucky_, but I ask myself the same thing.”

He shook his head and brushed a strand of Arthur’s sandy hair out of his face. “Nonsense! I’ve got to finish these touch-ups before we leave, but why don’t you take a shower in the meantime?” 

“Are you sayin’ I stink?”

“Not exactly,” he hummed, “but I _can _smell the barn on you.”

He snorted. “Fair enough.”

Arthur disappeared up the steps after that while Albert finished a few final edits. When he heard Arthur return nearly forty minutes later, Albert couldn’t help but stare. Arthur had always been able to clean up nicely, but the dark turquoise button-up he wore accented his broad frame in all the right ways. Although Arthur didn’t catch the way the photographer gawked at him. He was too busy frowning at the necktie he was unsuccessfully trying to tie. Albert smiled at the endearing sight before rising to his feet to help. 

With a sigh, Arthur’s hands fell away as Albert took over. “You’d think I’d be able to tie my own damn tie quicker."

“You almost had it,” Albert said. “You look very handsome, Arthur.”

He found himself blushing yet again. “Thanks.”

Albert smiled at him as he smoothed his shirt. "Give me ten minutes, and I'll be ready to go."

"More like twenty,"

Albert lightly swatted his arm in good humor before he went upstairs. When he returned, he was wearing a dark floral button-up with a pale pink bowtie that matched the petals in the pattern. It was a stunning outfit in its own right, paired with black fitted slacks, and Arthur couldn't help but smile as he took it all in.

"Damn, Al," he said, "you look amazing."

"Thank you," he grinned. "Which car do you want to take tonight?"

"Let's take the Bronco." He replied, grabbing his keys as he headed for the door. Yet before they left, Arthur gently took hold of his chin to press a kiss to his lips. Albert smiled, and when they parted, he raised an eyebrow. He knew the look on Arthur's face all too well. The man had become lost in thought as he studied him with a dreamy smile on his lips.

"What was that for?" Albert asked.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I guess there's a part of me that can't believe you've wanted to stay by my side for six months now."

"How many times do I have to tell you that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me?" he tutted as he held Arthur's hands in his.

Arthur offered him a sheepish smile. "Maybe for the rest of my life, if you so choose to stick around that long."

"I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise,"

When they arrived at the restaurant, the hostess led them to a table on the patio deck. The terrace overlooked the town of Boulder, and when they were taken to a table with a few roses in a vase, Arthur realized that Mary-Beth must’ve made a call to Flagstaff House after he’d left and mentioned the occasion. Arthur felt his face begin to match the color of the roses as the hostess told them to enjoy.

Albert smiled, amused by Arthur’s reaction as he took a seat. “Is something wrong, love?”

“Mary-Beth better sleep with one eye open for a while,” he quipped as he took his place across from him.

He laughed. “You have to admit it’s a nice touch.”

Arthur’s eyes lifted from the roses to meet Albert’s, and he couldn’t help but mirror his warm smile. “I suppose it is.”

Albert helped himself to the wine menu as he leaned back in his chair. The breeze that came from the mountains toyed with the curl of hair that came down over his forehead, and Arthur found his gaze lingering more on Albert than the dinner menu in his hand. The setting sun’s light bathed him in a warm glow, and Arthur was quickly transfixed by the sight. Yet, his lungs hitched as his thoughts wandered, knowing he didn’t deserve what he had in his new life. Arthur swallowed back the surge of emotions as his gaze shifted to the brilliant sunset painting the sky in light coral and purple hues that bled into blue. He forced himself to focus on the clouds that were dipped in gold to keep his thoughts from traveling any further down that path. Today they were celebrating what they had, and Arthur didn’t want to spoil the evening with his melancholic musings.

Albert, however, sensed the shift, and he looked up with a furrowed brow as he tried to read him. “Arthur? Are you alright?”

“Right as rain,” he replied as he flashed him a forced smile. “Just admiring the sunset.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Arthur lowered his eyes to the dinner options once more, “and reflecting on us.”

“Reflecting on good things, I hope?” 

“Of course,” he replied before a smirk twisted his lips. “Have you decided on a wine yet, or are you going to take all night trying them all?” 

Albert rolled his eyes but found himself smiling anyway. “I’ll have you know I’m only torn between two this time!” 

“Now that’s real progress!”

“I’d smack you if we weren’t at a high-end restaurant celebrating our six-month anniversary,”

Arthur laughed at that, easily forgetting the train of thought that had dampened his mood. His doubts continued to grow quieter as they enjoyed their meal over a pleasant conversation that reminded him of the many reasons why he loved Albert. His charm and wit always had their place regardless of his eloquence or his long-winded way of saying things. Unlike other people Arthur had met, Albert never intended to use his wide vocabulary as a way to one-up anyone, and it even inspired his journal writing. He was always gentle and considerate, and it was never a chore for Arthur to sit and listen to him talk. 

The sun was dipping just beneath the horizon by the time they paid the tab, and Arthur stood to leave when he felt Albert grab his arm.

“Wait, we should take a photo,” Albert said as he pulled out his phone. 

Arthur smiled and humored him by going over to his side, where he leaned against the glass railing. When Albert had opened the camera on his phone, he wrapped an arm around Arthur’s shoulders and held the device out to capture the moment. They smiled together for the photo, and Arthur found himself truly smiling, nearly laughing, when Albert leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. The shutter sound from his phone sounded at the same time, and Arthur couldn’t help but shake his head before giving him a peck on the lips. 

“You’re such a romantic,” he chuckled.

“I can’t help myself when I’m with you,” he replied as he tucked his phone away.

They made their way to Arthur’s Ford Bronco, and Albert couldn’t help but admire the two photos he took after buckling himself in. He imagined different places in their room where he could hang the photos once he had made a few edits and framed them, and it was only after he put his phone away when he realized Arthur was driving in the wrong direction.

“I think we missed our turn, Arthur,” he said as he looked for a street sign. 

“You really think dinner’s all I had planned for the night?” he asked with a crooked grin. “I’ll admit I ain’t the best at romance, but even _I _know better.”

“You devious man,” he chuckled, “just where are you whisking me off to?” 

“I ain’t tellin’,” 

Albert glanced over his shoulder and tried to see through the window into the truck bed. While they had removed the camper shell for the summer, Arthur had replaced it with a simple cover. Albert furrowed his brow before studying Arthur again only to find him still wearing a mischievous smirk. Knowing he wouldn’t get a word from him regarding where they were going, he put on a cassette of John Denver’s _Some Days are Diamonds_. 

Arthur chuckled to himself. “Feeling sentimental, much?” 

“Forgive me for daring to feel such a thing on our six-month anniversary!” He replied lightly. “We listened to this very same album after I received my stitches, and you even used one of the songs in an attempt to drop a hint if I remember correctly.”

His smirk faltered as he recalled the memory. “Don’t remind me. I was embarrassingly drunk at the time.”

He hummed in amusement. “Well, when I recall that time at the bar, I like to think it was that night that helped set us on this course.”

“That’s one way of lookin’ at it,” he mused.

“Both of us were tight-lipped about our affections,” Albert said, “and I was terrified that they were unrequited.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at that as he glanced at him. “Really?” 

“Oh, yes!” he laughed. “Very much so! You confused the hell out of me that week.”

“I guess I was afraid to have what I wanted,”

Albert gave him a sympathetic look before gently patting his thigh. 

The roads Arthur took were one-lane highways with towering trees on either side. More often than not, it felt as if they were the only ones on the road, and it was about an hour later when Arthur finally pulled off onto a hidden side street. The bumpiness of it told Albert that it was a dirt road, and the coniferous trees they were driving under suddenly opened up to reveal a velvet night sky dusted with stars. The view was breathtaking, and it occurred to Albert that the last time he had seen so many stars was when he was in Alaska. 

Arthur glanced over at Albert and smiled at the look of wonder on his face. He stopped the car and backed up to park in the grassy field. He exited the car, and it was by the time he removed the truck bed’s cover when Albert had managed to pull his gaze away from the night sky just long enough to join him outside. He gave Arthur a curious look before surveying the truck bed. Now that Arthur had removed the cover, he could see the blankets that had been spread out along with a variety of throw pillows. 

He smiled from ear to ear as he connected the dots, and he watched as Arthur hoisted himself onto the truck bed before offering him a hand. Albert gladly took it as he climbed up to join him, and he exhaled a contented sigh as they laid down atop the makeshift bed of blankets. Arthur wrapped an arm around him as Albert snuggled closer with his head against his shoulder, and they watched the stars in silence for a while.

The late spring air was pleasantly warm, which only added to the dreamy atmosphere. Every so often, Albert would point out a constellation, telling what pieces of the story he recalled from an astronomy class he took in college. 

“You know,” Albert said after a while, “I almost heeded the ridiculous advice you and some of the locals in Cairn gave me. I’m glad I didn’t.”

Arthur snorted. “That would’ve been the wise thing to do.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” 

Arthur sighed as he took in the dazzling stars that dotted the sky. "I guess you ought to know what really happened in Richmond. It’s about time you knew."

Albert blinked, unsure if he had heard him right, and he propped himself up on his forearm to read his tight expression better. "Arthur, if you don't want to talk about it, I completely understand. I don't have to know what did or didn't happen, and it won’t change anything."

"I know, but I want to tell you," he replied before drawing a deep breath. "My gang met with another to discuss terms. Guess you could say they were our rival gang. They call themselves the O’Driscolls.”

“Wait, didn’t we run into a few of them in New York?” 

“We did,” he answered. “They had started to sell cocaine mixed with fentanyl on our turf, which wasn't going to fly. Dutch aspired to help people, and he had a zero-tolerance policy for dealing drugs, especially ones that caused more overdoses than highs. The meeting had been going well, but someone on the inside had tipped off the police about what was going on and where we were. When we heard the sirens, a trigger happy O’Driscoll shot Hosea. Dutch lost it, and he instantly fired back and killed three of them."

"Hence the triple homicide?" Albert asked.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I hung back to buy them time so they could escape and get Hosea out of there. He was bleeding pretty bad, and I thought for sure he wasn’t going to make it. John was supposed to go with them, but the dumbass refused to leave. By the time the cops arrived, most everyone had scattered. It was dumb luck that I managed to convince John to run for the sake of his family, and I was the one left with the mess.”

Albert ran his hand over Arthur’s chest, soothingly tracing invisible shapes and patterns. “What happened after that?”

“They charged me for the triple homicide, to which I pleaded guilty before Dutch could get his resources together. I didn’t have any other options that didn’t involve incriminating Dutch or John. They put me on death row, and it felt like I was being held in solitary confinement most days.”

He tensed at that and quietly asked, “solitary confinement?”

Arthur nodded, a deep frown between his brows. There was a distant look in his eye, as if he had briefly revisited whatever lonely cell he’d been held in. “It was hell.”

“How long did that last?” 

“It was maybe a year before I received my pardon,” he replied quietly. “I don’t know for sure. I lost track of the days while I was in there, and I try my best not to remember it.”

“I’m so sorry, Arthur,”

He was silent for a while as he continued to stare up at the stars. “I owe Charles my life. I was in a real dark place when I was finally released. He refused to leave me alone for the first two months. We even shared a room for a while.” 

Albert pressed his lips to Arthur’s temple as he continued to caress the wide planes of Arthur's chest. While he had no words for Arthur, he was determined to show his love and support for him. The tender, affectionate touch brought Arthur back to the present and away from the memories that left a bitter taste in his mouth. He felt the tension leave him as Albert continued to pepper kisses along his face and neck, and a shiver ran down his spine as Albert nipped at his earlobe.

“Thank you for sharing that story with me, Arthur,” he said before kissing his cheek, “It means a lot that you trust me with it.”

“I trust you completely, Al, with everything,”

Albert smiled as the hand on Arthur’s chest wandered lower, dipping past the waistband of his black jeans and pulling a gasp from Arthur.

"Al—”

"Shh, it's my turn to spoil you," 

Arthur groaned at that, muttering how ridiculous Albert was before grinning as he pulled Albert closer for a passionate kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW it's been a while ;;
> 
> Life has been super busy, hence the delayed update, but I do have plenty of one-shots planned for this fic! It's just a matter of writing them 😅
> 
> Anywho! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for sticking around despite the inactivity!!! <3


	8. Little Things

Arthur swore under his breath from where he lay on the wood floor, seeking even the smallest relief from the heat inside their house. It was insufferably hot, even with the fans on and windows open.

“Of all the days for the damn AC to break,” he muttered as he used his damp shirt to wipe his brow, “it just had to be the hottest one yet.”

Albert sighed in agreement from where he sat in front of a large box fan. “I had no idea I could perspire this much! It was so hot last night that I couldn’t even sleep on the bed.”

“Or sleep at all,” he added.

“I called an AC repair company this morning. The guy said they had to order the part and that it’ll be in by Friday.” Charles said as he filled up his tumbler with water in the kitchen.

“Friday?” Arthur exclaimed. “That’s two days from now!”

“Trust me, I tried asking if they could get it here sooner,”

Albert groaned and pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the forecast for the coming days. Judging by his expression alone, Charles knew that the temperature for the next two days wasn’t much better, yet he decided to ask anyway.

“Well? What’s it look like?”

He sighed as he fanned himself with his colorblock tank top. “Well, the good news is that it’ll be a few degrees cooler.”

Arthur frowned and lifted his head. “And the bad news?”

“The heat index is predicted to be higher than today,”

“_Fuck_,”

Charles ripped off a paper towel and wiped away the sweat that was determined to drip down his face. It was pointless, but it at least eased his discomfort. “You know, we don’t _have_ to stay here and be miserable.”

“The hell are you talkin’ about?” Arthur huffed.

“The Wilson Ranch Pool is only thirty minutes away,” 

“Oh! Just the mere _thought _of a pool is lovely,” Albert hummed. “What a wonderful idea, Charles!”

He smiled at Albert’s enthusiasm before his gaze returned to where Arthur was on the floor. “I’m sure Al has swim trunks. What about you, Arthur?”

He scoffed. “Since when have I ever needed trunks?” 

Charles rolled his eyes. “Skinny dipping isn’t allowed in pools, and boxers are typically considered as indecent, let alone ridiculous.”

Arthur tilted his head back to scowl at Charles. “Do _you _have a pair?” 

“As a matter of fact, I do,” he smirked.

“I like to alternate between two pairs of swim trunks, Arthur,” Albert said. “You are more than welcome to borrow one, that is unless you’d rather sit here in your own pool of sweat.”

He muttered under his breath, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. “Fine.”

Albert chuckled and rose to his feet before walking over to Arthur. He offered him his hand to help him up before leading him upstairs to their room. “I have one with a pattern that might be too loud for your taste, and another that’s a solid teal.”

“Just give me the teal one,” he replied as they entered their room. “The simpler, the better.”

Albert flashed him a smile before pulling out a dresser drawer. He thumbed through the folded clothes before tossing a pair of trunks to him. “Here, try them on, and let's see how they fit.”

He indulged Albert in the simple request, dropping both his pants and drawers before sliding the shorts on. To say they fit snugly was an understatement. While comfortable, Arthur could feel the way they clung to his body, and he made an attempt to gently tug at the fabric by his crotch to give himself more room. 

Arthur looked up to meet Albert’s eyes that were glued on him. “It’s a bit tight, ain’t it?”

The photographer continued to eye the shorts, singling with just the twirl of his finger for Arthur to turn around. He smirked as he indulged him, knowing fully well Albert’s motives for doing so. 

“I think they fit you just fine,” Albert finally mused. “They simply accentuate your body, and you’re not used to form-fitting clothes.”

Arthur chuckled as he turned to face Albert again, noting the slight tint of pink in his cheeks. “Perhaps I should start wearing more of these ‘form-fitting’ clothes.”

He smiled, knowing he was caught. “I wouldn’t complain.”

Once Albert had changed into his other pair (which were just as loud as Arthur guessed they would be, with a summery pastel, southwest print), they met Charles downstairs and gathered a few things inside a canvas bag. They decided to take Albert’s Honda Fit as it was easier to get into, and the vehicle’s air conditioning was far better than what the Bronco offered. From the backseat, Charles couldn’t help but grin in amusement at how Albert’s trunks fit Arthur. Now that he was sitting down, the shorts stopped about mid-thigh, revealing the dark tan line of where his shorts usually stayed. 

“So, are you thinking of working on that mid-thigh tan?” he teased.

“Very funny,” 

“I think they look nice,” Albert replied.

“They do,” he agreed sincerely, “it’s Arthur’s discomfort that I find more entertaining.”

Albert glanced at Arthur. “Are you uncomfortable?” 

“Not in the way you think I am,” he answered. “They feel fine.”

“You might hate me for this,” Charles said, “but I called the Marstons and told them what we were up to,”

Arthur turned in his seat fast enough to rock the car slightly. “You _what?_”

His smirk quirked higher at his reaction. “I _also_ may have said that they could join us if they wanted to.”

He frowned. “If John so much as makes one comment I’m throwing him into the deep end.”

Both Albert and Charles laughed at that.

Sure enough, the three of them found the Marstons’ Corolla in the pool’s parking lot, and once they entered the pool, it wasn’t difficult to spot John, who was seated on the edge of one of the lounge chairs. He was starting to grow out his hair again, and between that and his scars, he stood out like a sore thumb among the others. The man was also in a pair of what was clearly athletic shorts and had opted to watch the people in the pool rather than be in it. 

John looked up as they approached him, and he snorted the instant his eyes settled on Arthur’s trunks. “You look like a damn Ken doll!” 

“Better than a greasy werewolf,” he quipped as he pulled off his tank top and tossed it at his head. “Make another smartass comment, and you’re going in.”

John laughed as he set the shirt on the chair beside his. “They’re Al’s, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,”

“Apparently owning a pair of swim trunks is too impractical for this one,” Charles said as he took his shirt off. 

Arthur rolled his eyes before taking in the pool. There was, of course, the typical lap pool, but to the right of it was what seemed to be a lazy river of sorts that separated it from the miniature waterpark for children. On the far side was a larger slide that emptied into one end of the lazy river. The number of people in the water wasn’t too bad, and even if it was, the pool was large enough to keep it from feeling crowded.

“I take it Abigail and Jack are in the water?” he asked.

“Yeah,” John answered as he leaned back in his chair. “Jack can’t get enough of the slides.”

Spotting the two of them didn’t take long, and Albert and Charles decided to head over to them while Arthur let out a low whistle. Now that it had been two months, Abigail was starting to show, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. 

“How’s she doing?” he asked as he sat on the chair next to John.

“The morning sickness subsided quicker this time, and her cravings are unpredictable, but she’s doing good,” John said before quietly eyeing Arthur. He had yet to see the damage left behind by his near-death experience with Micah, and his smile fell as his eyes settled on the two scars that were unfamiliar to him.

Feeling his scrutinizing stare, Arthur met his eyes and offered a crooked smile that they both knew was forced. “I’ve been thinking about using a drive-by as a cover story.”

John replied with a noncommittal hum before his stare shifted to the pool, his brow furrowing a hair. “You scared the hell out of me back then.”

He fidgeted with his hands as he stared at the ground. “I scared a lot of people.”

“I’m glad he’s dead,”

Arthur didn’t have to ask to know he was referring to Micah, and he only nodded as he watched Albert gently toss Jack to Charles. “Do you ever wonder where Dutch is holed up?”

“_No,_” he snapped, “and I hope I don’t _ever_ see that sonuvabitch again.”

Arthur, on the other hand, wasn’t sure how he felt about his former mentor. Yet, instead of lingering on the thought, he cleared his throat and rose to his feet. “I’m gonna go in. Al’s gonna tweak his back if he keeps doing that with Jack, and he ain’t got the heart to tell him no.”

“Yeah,” he replied quietly, “okay, Arthur.”

He made his way around the pool’s edge to where the others were. Abigail smiled wide as Charles threw Jack into the water. He laughed, his floaties keeping him above the surface as he begged to be thrown yet again. As Charles gave in, Arthur eased his way into the water, tensing at the initial cold that hit him. Abigail looked over at him, and before she could greet him, Arthur held a finger up to his lips to silence her before pointing at Albert. The man’s back was towards him, and he was thoroughly distracted by Charles and Jack. Abigail rolled her eyes, knowing full well what his childlike intentions were, but she said nothing as she watched Arthur sneak over to Albert.

When Arthur was close enough, he wrapped his arms around Albert and used his weight to pull him under. The two of them went, and Arthur let go after a quick moment before resurfacing. Albert came up as well, sputtering and pushing his hair out of his eyes. Arthur laughed at the sight, amused by his own practical joke.

“_Arthur Morgan!_ You nearly scared me to death _and _almost drowned me!” 

“Aw come on,” he grinned, “it wasn’t _that _bad!”

“For _you_, maybe,” he huffed as he ran his fingers through his waterlogged curls. “At least _your _hair air-dries nicely.”

“Bull—" Arthur stopped himself short as Abigail shot him a warning look, “—that ain’t true, it dries just fine.”

“Well, opinions aside, I’m going to pay you back for that one,” he smirked.

Arthur chuckled to himself before turning to Abigail. “I hear you’ve been doing well, all things considered.”

Her eyes, like John’s, had settled on the two knotted scars on his chest, yet when they lifted to meet Arthur’s, she simply smiled a small smile and shrugged. It was then that Arthur remembered that it wasn’t her first time seeing fresh scars. John owned his own scars, and while his brutal run-in with a police dog had been three years ago, Arthur still vividly remembered the look on Abigail’s face when he and Javier had hauled John’s ass back to the old house the gang had been hiding out in. He’d done what he could to patch him up, and while Abigail had put on a brave face, there was no hiding the worry that had flickered behind her eyes.

“About as well a pregnant woman can be,” she replied. 

“You have any guesses of what it’s gonna be?”

“No,” she smiled, “but one can only hope it ain’t another boy.”

He snorted at that. “Well, we’re only a phone call away if you need another weekend to yourselves.”

Abigail smiled as she gave his hand a squeeze. “Thank you, Arthur. We really appreciate all that you do.”

“It’s nothing,”

“Nothing my—”

“Ah-ah, language,” Arthur gently chided with a grin.

She frowned at him as her nose wrinkled, giving away her mild annoyance at the correction. A smirk then pulled at the corner of her mouth, and Arthur didn’t have the chance to understand why before she splashed him with water. 

It was only a mild splash, but Jack had witnessed the moment, and he too became determined to splash his Uncle Arthur as much as he could. Arthur tried his best to shield himself, laughing as Jack relentlessly threw water at him. To escape the onslaught, he went under. The chlorine stung his eyes as he positioned himself underneath the kid before breaching the surface with Jack now over his shoulder. He let out a gleeful scream and squirmed in his grasp before he was thrown into the water once again. 

Albert leaned against the side of the pool as he watched on with Abigail. Both of them were thoroughly enjoying the spectacle, and they both broke out in laughter when Charles gave Arthur a taste of his own medicine by pulling him under. 

Abigail sighed contentedly as she looked on. “Y’know, in the time I’ve known Arthur, I can’t recall a time I ever saw him this happy.”

The remark surprised him, and he raised an eyebrow as he turned to her. “If you don’t mind me asking, how long _have_ you known Arthur?”

“At least six years,” she said. “I can’t even begin to describe how much you’ve helped him.”

Albert shifted his weight before flashing her a shy smile. “I think he’s helped me as much as I’ve helped him, if not more.” 

“Of course,” she mused, “but I wanted to thank you anyway. John used to really worry about him.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s had, and still has, some good people who genuinely care about him,”

She smiled at that before returning her attention to the impromptu wrestling match between Arthur and Charles. It came as no surprise that Charles was winning. He stood behind Arthur with his arms wrapped around his shoulders, effortlessly keeping him from breaking free from his hold. Arthur muttered under his breath as Jack giggled while he took advantage of his vulnerability to splash him again. Charles released him when he finally tapped out, and Albert chuckled as he watched Arthur roll his shoulders.

After a while, Jack became more interested in food than playing, and the three of them were sopping wet as they exited the pool. Abigail and Albert followed, and as John opened the cooler for Jack, the photographer couldn’t help but smile at Arthur’s waterlogged state. Arthur caught him grinning, and his brow furrowed ever so slightly. 

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re going to have to dry off with _two_ towels before you set foot in my car,”

He rolled his eyes before running his fingers through Albert’s now thoroughly curled hair. “Whatever you say, tribble.”

It wasn’t Albert’s first time being called ‘tribble’ by Arthur, and he simply shook his head and smiled. If anything, it was endearing. Arthur had made it clear over the months that he adored his unruly curls that surfaced on occasion. Sometimes they showed themselves on rainy days, and other times Albert let them loose when he briefly towel-dried his hair after a shower. For the longest time, Albert had done his best to keep them tamed. Yet now he didn’t mind it as much when his curls decided to have a mind of their own.

While the Marstons decided to leave an hour after they’d had their lunch, the rest of them stayed until the pool closed at seven-thirty. By then, the sun’s heat had dissipated, cooling down to a comfortable eighty degrees. The sky was losing more and more of its blue hue, bleeding into shades of violet and pink. Before going home, however, they stopped at a local restaurant for dinner. Albert had made a good point that cooking anything at home would only cause the house to heat up again, and Arthur and Charles were quick to confirm that eating out was their best option.

They did their best to dry off before entering. Although Arthur couldn’t help but feel mildly self-conscious about his shorts. Albert, of course, could sense it. Arthur’s posture told him everything, from the shifting of his weight to his folded arms across his chest. Yet, wrapping an arm around Arthur’s waist and whispering a few harmless sweet-nothings in his ear seemed to do the trick. The uneasiness left him, and his tight expression melted into a smile.

When they returned to the house, Beanie eagerly greeted them with trills and meows, rubbing against each of their legs. Once her food and water were replenished (and was given a satisfactory amount of attention from all three of them), there was a mutual agreement that sleeping in the basement was their best bet in avoiding the heat and trying to sleep through the night. Arthur headed upstairs to shower, and only ten minutes had passed before Albert joined him.

Arthur couldn’t help but smile. It was a tight fit, and he stepped back to lean against the wall in an attempt to make more room for Albert. He had already finished washing the chlorine off him, yet Albert seemed more interested in running his long, nimble fingers over his muscles rather than showering. Arthur exhaled a contented sigh as his stiff muscles were gently massaged, his eyes closing on their own between the warmth of the water and Albert’s touch.

“What’s the special treatment for?” he finally asked.

“You looked a little stiff getting in and out of the car after dinner,” he replied. 

Arthur chuckled to himself. “I must’ve pulled something roughhousing with Charles and Jack.”

“Your shoulders or your back?”

“Both, but mostly my back,”

“Of course,” he said as he gestured for Arthur to turn around before pressing his thumbs along the defined planes of his back. “Is it your lower back?”

Arthur nodded, and he nearly melted underneath his touch as he worked out the tightness just above his hips. He then hummed to himself after a while, stilling Albert’s hands by reaching back before pulling his arms around his waist. 

“I know I’ve said it before, but you’re too good for me, Al,”

“Nonsense,” he smiled as he rested his chin on Arthur’s shoulder. “We’re simply good for each other.”

He smiled at that as the water ran over both of them. It had been a while since he’d felt so light. There really wasn’t any other word to describe it. It was as if he was slowly releasing the baggage he carried with him, the weight of it decreasing bit by bit over the months. The last time he’d felt anything even remotely similar was the year after Dutch and Hosea had taken him in. That had been over two decades ago. He had lost hope that he’d ever feel that kind of happiness again. Now, it was not only in his grasp, but more often than not, he found himself enveloped by it. Most days, it felt like he was living a happy ending that came right out of a children’s book. He’d never thought he was worthy of such a thing, and yet he was proven time and time again that he was.

A sudden swell of emotions nearly overtook him, coming so unexpectedly that it made his breath hitch. Albert felt it against his chest, and he furrowed his brow in concern.

“Arthur? Is something wrong?”

He shook his head, swallowing back the overflow of love and gratitude he felt. 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he replied as he lifted Albert’s hand to press his lips to the back of it. “In fact, everything is just right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking around even though it's been forever since I've updated! :D
> 
> I hope you all have a wonderful day <3 Thank you for your support/kudos/comments! <3 ;;
> 
> Also, thank you capskat for suggesting the nickname 'tribble' for Albert! I absolutely love it!


	9. I'm Lying to you Cause I'm Lost

Albert sat on the loveseat in the living room as he explored Tripadvisor on his laptop. Exhaling a deep sigh, he propped his feet up on the coffee table. His search for a vacation getaway for Arthur’s birthday had been unsuccessful so far, although it wasn’t money that was the issue. Albert had been booking more photoshoots and saving what he’d earned from them to make sure he had more than enough. What had stumped him (with a growing headache to boot) was the website itself. Without having a clear direction, the number of available options and things to do in Colorado was overwhelming. He didn’t know where to start, or even what Arthur would like best out of the myriad of choices, and he massaged his temple as his frustration caused the throbbing in his head to grow.

Arthur looked over at him from where he sat on the other couch, his brow furrowing as he recognized the tell-tale signs of Albert’s stress. “What’re you workin’ on?”

He had nearly forgotten Arthur was in the same room, and he jumped when he was asked the simple question. “Oh, you know, just the usual photo edits.”

His nose wrinkled. “This late on a Saturday? I thought you were trying _not _to work on the weekends.”

“Well,” he stammered, “with the blasted AC being out, I hardly got any work done.”

“Oh, come on, Al,” Arthur said as he got up to sit beside him, “surely you can find _some _time to rest.”

Albert was quick to close his laptop as he offered Arthur a strained smile, hoping that doing so would prevent him from pressing any further. “Perhaps you’re right, dear.”

The doorbell sounded just then, freeing him from Arthur’s questioning look. Its chime had never sounded sweeter than in that moment for him, and he excused himself from Arthur’s penetrating gaze and walked over to the door. Too grateful for the interruption to even question who the unexpected visitor was, Albert opened it without looking through the peephole. 

To say he was caught off guard was an understatement. He had been expecting one of the neighborhood boy scouts but instead found a man who he’d never seen before. In fact, the stranger looked just as surprised to see him. His surprise, however, didn't last long as his fiery eyebrows drew together in a frown. They were a sharp contrast to his icy blue eyes, yet even they seemed to contain their own fire.

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat in a thick Irish accent.

“I beg your pardon,” Albert huffed, “I believe _I_ should be the one asking that question!”

The man narrowed his eyes as he sized him up. “Where’s Arthur Morgan?”

Albert blinked, his feigned bravado faltering. Arthur had walked him through countless times what to do if anyone should ever ask about him. After a lengthy discussion back in February, it was decided that everyone who needed to know Arthur was alive already knew, and it was agreed that anyone who Albert didn’t recognize had no business knowing. 

Albert swallowed, recalling the lines he’d rehearsed multiple times with both Arthur and Charles. Lines that he had memorized by heart despite the pain they caused. “I’m sorry, who?”

The Irishman scowled as he grabbed Albert by his shirt before pinning him to the doorframe. Albert’s eyes flew wide as fear and adrenaline flooded his veins. He’d been unfortunate enough to run into the Irish gang that had been rivals with Arthur’s, and to think he’d run into another O’Driscoll caused the blood to drain from his face. There was no telling what the stranger was capable of, nor what he was willing to do. 

“You think you’re real fuckin’ funny, don’t ya?” he snarled. “How about I—”

Arthur was by Albert’s side in an instant, snagging the stranger by the back of his shirt collar and pulling him off Albert with ease. “What the hell, Sean! Have you lost your damn mind? What's the matter with you?"

The man's disposition changed the second he laid eyes on Arthur. He grinned from ear to ear, revealing a missing front tooth. As Albert smoothed his button-up, he couldn't help but skeptically eye the Irishman as he pulled Arthur into a tight hug. Arthur begrudgingly allowed it, patting the man's back with a sigh.

"Arthur! You’re alive!” he exclaimed as he squeezed him tighter. “I can hardly believe it!”

Arthur grunted as he freed himself from Sean’s grasp. “How the hell did you find me?”

“It’s a long story,” he replied as he let himself in, heading straight for the kitchen. “Fuck, I’m famished! Even Abigail’s cooking is better than airplane food!”

Arthur muttered under his breath before looking over at Albert, noting that the man was both tense and thoroughly confused by the situation. He scratched the back of his neck as Sean helped himself to their stir-fry leftovers. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” he said. “I take it he’s yet another member of your gang?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “We tried to release him back into the wild a few times, but he kept finding his way back.”

Despite the tension between them, Albert laughed at that, and the sound brought a small smile to Arthur’s face. “I’m surprised by how many of your former gang members have managed to find you despite,” he hesitated as he gestured vaguely in front of him, “you know...”

Arthur’s brow furrowed. There was a faraway look in Albert’s eye despite his smile, and the fear behind his eyes was clear as day to him. With a sigh, he took hold of his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about it too much, Al. Sean’s always been too nosy for his own good. That’s why his nose is so long.”

“Oi! I heard that, English!” He huffed as he turned to shoot Arthur a look. Yet the front he threw on disappeared as quickly as it came when his eyes lowered to their interlocked hands. A lopsided grin (that even Albert recognized as nothing but trouble) stretched across his face as he rested his arms on the kitchen island.

“You never said you had a boyfriend!” 

Arthur scowled. “You never asked.”

His smirk only grew wider. “So tell me, Arthur, how did a sour-faced grump like you manage to find love?”

“_Shut up_,”

“No, seriously! I’m always the last t’know these things!”

“With a mouth like yours, it’s in everyone’s best interest that you ain’t told shit,” Arthur muttered. “We met while I was in Alaska.”

“And?”

He hesitantly glanced at Albert before making his way over to Sean to fill him in on everything that had happened. As they sat in the barstools at the kitchen island, Albert decided to make himself scarce before Arthur caught the Irishman up to speed. While he didn’t mind listening to their story and how they’d met, hearing all that had happened between Arthur and Micah was never pleasant for him. Albert did his best not to remember the time he’d nearly watched his beloved partner bleed to death beside him, nor linger on the despair he’d felt. His memories and emotions from that day were still far too vivid for his liking, and more often than not, he tried to avoid them altogether. 

He nearly bumped into Charles as he turned to head up the stairs, although Charles hardly paid any attention to his hasty apology. His dark eyes were glued on Sean and were paired with a deep frown.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” he said.

Sean perked up at his familiar voice and smiled wide. “Charles! I didn’t know you lived here too! It’s good t’see you!”

“I wish the same could be said for you,”

“Oh, come on! You don’t mean that, do you?” 

“I do,”

Sean’s whining was indistinct as Arthur watched Albert over his shoulder as he went up the steps. While the photographer hadn’t said much, Arthur knew Sean’s arrival had stirred something in the photographer. Although he couldn’t blame him. Not even Arthur was sure how he’d been found, and if that was making _him_ feel on edge, he could only imagine the anxious thoughts running through his partner’s mind. It wasn’t uncommon for Albert to imagine worst-case scenarios, and Arthur only sighed as his gaze flicked to Sean. He was still bickering with Charles, who had joined them at the counter and was now wearing a small grin.

“How the hell _did_ you find me anyway?” he asked.

Sean turned to him, forgetting all about his harmless squabble with Charles. “You know how Trelawney loves New York, right? Well, there I was at the bar I run with Karen—it’s called Karen’s Corner Pub if you’re ever in town—and would you believe it! The fancy bastard walks right on in, and makes himself at home at our very own counter!”

“Sounds like Karen runs it, if you ask me,” Charles commented.

“It’s named that for the alliteration!” he huffed.

“I’m surprised you even know that word,”

Sean rolled his eyes at Charles before continuing. “Anyway, we get to talkin’, and after a few drinks, I mentioned how it was a real fucking shame you'd been killed, and that was when he told me you were alive and well! Fucking living the grand ol' life as if you were on _Little House on the Prairie _in Colorado! I thought he was pullin’ my leg! Hell, I nearly punched the daylights out of him for making such a terrible joke, I did!”

“Wait, _Trelawney _told you?” Arthur asked.

“Sure did, English!” he replied. “I wouldn’t worry about it, though. You know how tight-lipped Trelawney can be when he wants to.” His expression lost its mirth as he fidgeted with the food in the Tupperware container he was eating out of. “So, what really happened out there, Arthur?”

Arthur heaved a sigh. The all too familiar question was bound to happen eventually, and he told him all that had happened, starting from Albert’s arrival in Alaska, to their move out to Colorado. 

“I’m gonna gut Micah next time I see him,” Sean muttered. “That sonuvabitch won’t know what’s—”

“He’s dead,” Arthur interrupted. “He was shot and killed during a bank robbery back in April.”

Sean nearly pouted at that. “You mean a fucking _lawman_ had the joy of killing that bastard?”

“Unfortunately,”

“Fucking hell,” he huffed as he rested his head in his hand. “Where’s the satisfaction in that?” 

Arthur said nothing. He only cared that the man was dead, not how or why.

“Anyway,” Sean said as his usual smirk returned. “Have you put a ring on this Albert guy yet?”

He hesitated as he felt heat creep into his face at the question. “No.”

His smile fell. “Just what the fuck are you waiting for?”

Arthur frowned. “It’s none of your business!”

He scoffed at that. “You’ve been together for what, five months?” 

“Seven,”

Sean slammed his hands on the counter in disbelief. “Bloody hell, Morgan! _Seven? _Are you plannin’ on waitin’ ‘til you're in the grave t’marry the man?”

“And what about you and Karen, huh?” he shot back. “Where’s _her_ ring?” 

“She don’t want one,” he replied. “But Albert? I can tell by the way he looks at ya that he does. It’s in his eyes, Arthur! Are you blind?” 

“I ain’t blind,” he huffed as he folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair.

“Then what’s keepin’ you from askin’?” he asked. “John said you had a ring on Mary’s finger by the _fifth_ month!”

Arthur massaged the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ease his growing frustration. Even after all this time, Sean was still the equivalent of a walking migraine sometimes. “This is different.”

“Different how?”

Arthur felt the blood drain from his face as he turned to find Albert on the stairs. His brows were pulled together, forming a deep frown between them, and his cheeks had a tinge of red to them. Arthur’s heart pounded in his ears as he realized with dread what Albert had undoubtedly overheard. He licked his lips and drew a deep breath as he scrambled to find where to start unpacking the pandora box that had been opened.

“Al, I can explain—”

“Explain what?” he retorted. “The former engagement that you’ve kept a secret from me? Something that you’ve failed to mention entirely?”

“Al—”

“Is there anything else I should know?” he snapped. “Any other skeletons you’ve kept hidden away in your closet?”

The venom in his voice cut through Arthur’s heart like a knife, causing him to physically wince. He rose from his seat and headed for the stairs. “Please, just let me explain.”

A harsh scoff escaped him as he turned away. “I think it's a bit late for that, Arthur.”

Arthur frowned and followed Albert anyway, taking two steps at a time to catch up to him. Yet, his long strides were in vain as the door slammed shut before he could get there. His shoulders slumped forward as he heard the latch lock, and he rested his forehead against the door for a moment before he returned to the kitchen to get a paperclip out of their junk drawer. He ignored Charles’ sympathetic look as he made his way up the stairs before straightening the paperclip. The door unlocked with ease, and he drew a deep breath before opening the door and stepping inside. 

He found Albert seated on the edge of their bed with his phone in his hands. The frown he wore had yet to lose its depth, and Arthur could feel his anger rolling off him in waves. He swallowed, failing to recall a time he’d ever seen Albert so angry. The man hardly ever lost his temper, and the realization only caused the guilt he felt in his gut to consume him entirely. He felt sick to his stomach, and he swallowed as he stood awkwardly by the door. 

“Al...I swear I—”

“It was locked for a reason,” Albert snapped. “Did you plan on even telling me at all?” 

“It was nearly a lifetime ago,” he said. “I’ve been so swept up in you, in what we have, that I’d almost forgotten about Mary.”

His heated gaze snapped up to meet Arthur’s. “You _forgot?_”

He scratched the back of his neck and hesitated before nodding.

Albert abruptly rose to his feet. “You’re saying you forgot you _proposed _to someone?”

“I’m sorry, Al,” he sighed. “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to keep it a secret.”

He drew a deep breath through his nose as he ran a hand through his hair. “And I’m just supposed to be okay with that? That you’ve waited until I overheard what happened to mention you’d been previously engaged at one point?” 

“No, you have every right to be angry—”

“You’re damn right I do!”

Arthur flinched. “Al—”

“So how is _this—” _he gestured to the space between them— “different?”

His nose wrinkled at that. “What?”

“You said this was different,” Albert’s eyes were swimming with emotion now, and the ire he once had was lost in the sea of hurt and sorrow. “I’ve left behind everything for this. I was there for you when you couldn’t even stand. I stayed by your side when you lost Hosea and held your hand as you processed what happened with Micah. Not once did I ever ask for anything other than honesty in return, but apparently even that's too much to ask of you.”

“I’m sorry, _real _sorry,” Arthur said quietly as he reached for Albert’s hands.

Albert was quick to pull his hands out of his reach. “Get out.”

“Come on, Al, let’s figure this out,” he pleaded. “I promise to tell you everything.”

“I said, _get out_,” he repeated firmly. His gaze was hard, and as Arthur weighed his options, he realized it was best for both of them that he respect Albert’s request despite how painful it was. With a heavy sigh, he nodded once and left the room. He closed the door behind him and leaned heavily against the door as he ran a hand over his face. 

Arthur tried to ignore the ache in his chest as he walked down the stairs and did his best to ignore the way his friends looked on with pity. While Sean couldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat, Charles didn’t take his eyes off him. Arthur knew the pensive stare all too well. He’d seen it countless times before when they’d first moved to Alaska. Charles knew how to read Arthur all too well, and he marveled at how his friend could have such soft eyes for a stare that was so penetrating.

Arthur scratched the back of his neck as he rejoined them, forcing a small laugh in an attempt to hide the growing sadness that sat in his chest like a heavy weight. “I think I’m going to take a walk, clear my head a bit.”

Charles rose from his seat. “I think I’ll join you.”

“I’m fine, Charles,”

He raised an eyebrow. “You should know by now that that phrase doesn’t work on me.”

Arthur sighed before turning to Sean. “We’ll be back in a bit. Make yourself at home.”

“Sure, Arthur,” Sean said. He watched Charles place a hand on his shoulder as the door was closed behind them before cursing himself under his breath. He hadn't planned on causing any trouble when he’d decided to visit. At least not this kind. This was anything but harmless fun, and Sean felt awful for being the unintentional force behind the wedge that had been driven into Arthur’s relationship. 

Sean scowled at the last bit of stir-fry in front of him. He had lost his appetite, and he swore under his breath as he snapped on the container’s lid and returned the food to the fridge. As he leaned against the counter, he took in the house. It was surprisingly warm and inviting, with the littlest touches here and there that tied the log home’s rustic aesthetic together. For as many homes as Sean had shared with Charles and Arthur (as well as the gang), not once had he seen them use any kind of decoration. It made him sit back and wonder how Albert contributed to their dynamic. Charles and Arthur were more in tune with details concerning people rather than things, and it made Sean want to figure out just who the man was. 

The fact that Arthur had even romantically been with _anyone _consistently for seven months was a feat all on its own. From what he’d observed first hand, even his relationship with Mary had been off and on, which meant that this Albert was either someone special or an incredible manipulator. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the distant sound of Albert’s voice. He frowned and straightened himself. In the back of his mind, he knew that he shouldn’t snoop. This entire situation was none of his business. Yet, he easily ignored the feeling completely, pulling out the drawer he’d seen Arthur open earlier. When he’d found a paperclip, he ventured up the steps and followed the sound of Albert’s voice until he reached a bedroom door, carefully pressing his ear to it.

On the other side, Albert was on the phone with Heather. He had called her the moment he’d heard the front door close, assuming the three men downstairs had gone out and that he was alone. She had instantly detected the tremor in his voice when he returned her greeting, and Albert found his words spilling from his mouth when she’d asked what was wrong. He knew he could trust Heather with anything, and it was a struggle to hold back his tears as he told her all that had happened. 

“I can’t help but wonder if this whole thing has just been one long con,” he said. “Has he been using me just as a way to hide?”

“For _seven months_, Albie?” she asked, clearly doubtful. 

“Do you have any idea how many members of his former gang have been able to find him? That can’t be a coincidence!”

“You’re following a domino trail that may not even exist,” she said gently. “You said it yourself that you haven’t really talked to him about his former engagement yet. To assume he’s been scamming you is quite the accusation.”

“Is it, though?” he snapped. “What if it’s true? I was just a bumbling tourist in Alaska. What if he saw me as a target with side benefits that was easy to manipulate?”

Albert heard her sigh. “You’re letting these ‘what-ifs’ spin you up.”

“Am I?” he huffed. “What would _you _do if you found out Jackson had a fiance that he never told you about?” 

“I would _talk_ to him, something you should try doing before you make a decision you’ll regret,” 

Albert jumped when he heard the door open behind. He frowned when he found Sean standing in the doorway, told Heather he’d call her back later, and rose to his feet. “Do _any _of you know what a locked door means?” 

Sean shrugged. “Yeah, old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Clearly,” he muttered. 

He nervously adjusted his dark green snapback as his gaze shifted to the floor. “Listen, Arthur’s fucking terrible when it comes to talking ‘bout things, especially things that are real important, but he isn’t a scoundrel.”

“Sure,” he scoffed. “And I’m just supposed to take your word for that despite the fact that you just picked open my door?”

“Oh come on,” he said with a lopsided grin. “Let me treat you to a drink or two. It’s the least I can do, and it’ll take your mind off things!” 

Albert scowled. “I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are! You look like shit!”

He glared at him as he fidgeted with his phone, his anger still simmering as he thought it over before giving in with a muttered curse under his breath. A drink or two didn’t sound too bad, and if Sean was offering to buy, then who was he to turn him down? “Fine.”

Sean smiled from ear to ear. “You won’t regret it, Albert!” 

\--

As Albert drove them to an Irish pub Sean had found, the photographer quickly discovered that the Irishman did _not_ understand the value of silence. The man talked incessantly, sometimes about nothing at all, and by the time they reached the establishment, Albert knew far more about Sean’s father than he wanted to.

“You know,” Albert said as he exited the car, “the last time I was at an Irish pub, I had an unpleasant run-in with a few O’Driscolls.”

Sean’s nose wrinkled in disgust as he followed suit. “I can’t stand those bastards! Neither can Arthur. They once took him, you know? Colom, the dumb fuck, thought he could get information from him.”

Albert furrowed his brow as he held the door open. “Colom?” 

“Idiot bastard pronounces it _Colm_,” he scoffed, emphasizing the pronunciation with disgust. “But yes, he’s the one in charge of them all.”

He paused as he replayed Sean’s words before following him to the bar’s counter where they both took a seat. “Wait, are you saying Arthur was _abducted_ and _interrogated_ by them at one point?”

Sean hesitated as he forced a smile, wincing internally as he realized he had revealed more than he should’ve. “Don’t worry, it’s not something Arthur likes to talk about to _anybody_. The only one he talked to about it was Hosea, and I’m certain the only reason he told him in the first place was because the old man wouldn’t leave him alone about it. Miss Grimshaw, too. I mean, they were tending to him day and night. It was only a matter of time before Arthur ‘fessed up to ‘em!”

Albert stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. “Remind me to never tell you _any_ of my secrets.”

“Oi! I can keep a secret when I want to!”

“I find that one hard to believe,” he said flatly before ordering a shot of whiskey.

Sean frowned before he ordered the same. “Anyway, I didn’t drag ya here to tell you more things you didn’t know about Arthur.”

“Then why _did_ you bring me here? Because so far, that’s all you’ve managed to do since showing up on our doorstep.”

He grimaced at the truth in Albert’s statement. “Okay, I’ll admit that sometimes I talk too much for my own good, but mark my words, Arthur Morgan is a good man.”

“And why should I take _your _word for it,” Albert muttered before thanking the bartender for his drink.

“Because I know that deep down in yer heart, you know it’s true!”

He frowned before downing the shot, feeling the familiar burn of whiskey in his throat. “I’m not sure if I do.”

“Listen, keeping secrets is what used to keep us alive, Albert,” Sean said. “Surely you can’t blame the bastard for needing time to unlearn that!”

“But a former_ engagement?_”

"It could be worse!" he said. “I mean, at least he isn’t cheating on you.”

Albert shot him a look. 

“What?” 

He only shook his head before ordering another shot. 

“Just hear me out! Arthur’s loyal, and his heart’s too soft to hurt or manipulate someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, wondering if he should be offended by the remark.

“Sure,” he replied, “not once have I seen Morgan outwardly show his affection to anyone but Hosea and Jack. Since the day I met him he’s been a sour-faced grump! Mister Debbie-Downer Arthur Morgan! But today he actually _hugged _me! I half expected him to punch me when I wrapped my arms around him! Mark my words, Albert, he’s a changed man, and for the better! If he was scamming you, he would be the same ol’ Arthur I knew a year ago.”

Albert fidgeted with the new shot of whiskey in front of him. Despite the hurt he still felt, he knew Sean was right. He hadn’t forgotten what Arthur was like when he first met him. The man had been cold and distant, calloused and consumed by his pain. Looking back, it felt as if he’d met an entirely different person then. The Arthur he knew now was nothing like the man he’d met at the bar in Cairn, and as he ran a hand over his face at the realization, he found himself overwhelmed with regret. 

“What have I done?” he sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Hey,” Sean said as he patted his back. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head! Everything will work itself out. Just enjoy your whiskey.”

Albert nodded to himself before bringing the glass to his lips. He tried to decline Sean’s offer of a third shot, yet he couldn’t get the words out in time before he’d told the bartender to bring another round. Albert didn’t have it in him to put his foot down, either. After the day he’d had, he was spent, and he simply nursed his drink as Sean went off on another story about his “da”. 

Sean grinned to himself, amused as he watched a flush creep into Albert’s cheeks. The man clearly had a low tolerance for alcohol, and he found it entertaining how he’d grown more talkative by the minute. Since the moment they met, Sean had taken him as someone who was wound up too tight for his own good, and he was glad to find he was loosening up some. In fact, before they’d even left the house, Sean had decided to take it upon himself to help the man unwind, and he was happy to find that he was succeeding. 

“So,” the Irishman began as his curiosity got the best of him. “Who cooks better? You or Arthur?”

Albert snorted. “Definitely me!”

“Thought so,” he laughed. “Can’t say I blame him, though. We mostly survived on food in boxes and cans back in the day! If we were lucky, we’d call a pizza place or order take-out.”

“Is that so?

Sean nodded. “Which one of you snores louder?”

He furrowed his brow as he thought it over. “I’m not actually sure… Arthur sleeps so lightly, and he’s usually out of bed by the time I wake up.”

“Oh?” His eyes nearly sparkled at the revelation. “You two have been sharing a bed?”

“For a while now, yes,”

“So tell me, Albert,” he said as he leaned closer, “have you and Arthur fucked?” 

Albert nearly choked on the whiskey he’d started to drink. Of course, he knew by now that he was a little more than tipsy. The whiskey had already started to make his head swim, and normally, he wouldn’t have answered a question about something so private. Yet, even so, he couldn’t keep himself from nodding as his cheeks grew redder. 

Sean’s eyes flew wide as his impish smile grew. “Really?”

Another nod.

He leaned forward as he slid his own full shot of whiskey over to Albert. “Is he any good? I mean, all that pouting, I figured it had something to do with...well, you know—” he gestured to his own crotch for emphasis— “incompetence.” 

“No, the farthest from it, actually,” Albert smirked. “Well, he’s the best _I’ve _ever been with.”

“Bloody hell, Albert!” Sean exclaimed. “Just how many fellas have ye fucked?”

He shook his head and drank the glass Sean had given him. “M’not tellin’.”

The Irishman laughed. “You’re a kinky little bastard, aren’t ya?” 

He only shrugged, yet his answer was given away by his smile.

“So who usually does the pitching?” 

“Depends,”

“Is he packing? Like, _really _packing?” 

Albert opened his mouth to answer when his phone rang, and he held up a finger to Sean as he answered it. “Hello?” 

"Hey, Albert. It's Charles. I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. I noticed your car was gone."

"I'm doing fine," he replied. "Your friend, Sean, is wonderful! He's been kind enough to buy me a few drinks."

"Wait, you're out drinking with Sean?" 

"Yep!"

Albert heard Arthur exclaim a string of swears in the background, and it was Arthur's voice he heard next instead of Charles'. "How many drinks have you had?"

"Don't worry, I'm perfectly fine!" he slurred. 

“_Albert_,”

“Arthur,” he crooned in reply.

Arthur huffed. "Hand the phone over to Sean."

Albert wrinkled his nose but passed it anyway. While Sean hesitantly took it from him, he mustered an exuberant hello. Although his smile didn't last long before it shifted into a frown.

"Would you calm the fuck down, Morgan?"

"You took my partner out to get drunk! How the fuck am I supposed to calm down?"

"The man needed a few drinks! Hell, he was going to get them one way or another. I thought I might as well be with him when he does _and _cheer him up while I'm at it!"

"You're the worst," Arthur retorted, although he had to admit Sean had a point, and if it was the case that Albert had planned to go drinking, he was grateful that he wasn’t doing it alone. "First, you show up without warning, throwin’ a wrench into my love life, and now you've gotten him drunk thinking it would fix things?"

Sean scowled. "Listen, you did all the wrench throwin’ yerself!"

The line was silent for a moment before he heard Arthur sigh heavily, and it made Sean regret reminding the man of his mistake. "I know. Look, just make sure he gets home safely, okay?"

"O’course, Arthur!" he said as he tried to make his tone light. "What do you take me for, an animal?"

"Some days I wonder..."

Sean rolled his eyes. "We'll be back in the next hour. Just keep your shirt on!"

He hung up and passed the phone back to Albert. "See? Would a conman badger his friend just to make sure you get home safe?"

"I guess not," he mused as he stared at his phone screen. The background photo was the picture he'd taken at Flagstaff, and his eyes lingered on Arthur until the screen timed out. What giddiness had been brought on by the whiskey disappeared as he recalled that night. 

Arthur had painstakingly planned out the details all on his own, making sure to make each one meaningful to what they had between them. It left Albert realizing how genuine Arthur had been since he'd admitted to being in a gang, and how intentional and dedicated he was when it came to their relationship. Albert bit his lip as his emotions threatened to spill over, and he tried swallowing them back as he put his phone away.

Sean scratched the back of his neck, easily detecting the shift in Albert’s mood. Here he was trying to make things better, and yet it seemed all he was capable of was making things worse. 

"Where was that picture taken?" he asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Albert jumped, so lost in his thoughts that he'd forgotten he wasn't alone. "We were at a restaurant in Boulder, celebrating our six-month anniversary."

“It’s a really nice photo,” he mused. “I think the last time I saw Arthur smile like that was when I burned off my eyebrows.”

He chuckled to himself. “How’d you manage that?”

“I was hardly fifteen at the time, and was messin’ with my lighter and a can of AXE. I figure yer smart enough t’figure out the rest! Took me fucking _months _to grow ‘em back!”

Albert laughed. He could only imagine what that would’ve looked like, or how amused Arthur must’ve been after no doubt warning Sean against it. “How long ago was that?”

“About seven years,” he replied as he fondly recalled the memory. “Things were different then.”

“I can imagine,” Albert said. “Arthur’s only mentioned what the gang used to be like, though he mostly only talks about Hosea.”

Sean’s eyes lowered to his empty glass as he swallowed. “Yeah, he was quite the character, was a great man, too. S’hard _not_ to talk about him.” 

“Arthur’s said that, too,”

“Speaking of the bastard,” Sean said, patting Albert on the back as he rose to his feet. “We should be gettin’ you home before he decides to kill me.”

\--

Arthur sat in the living room fidgeting with his hands as he stared at the clock display on the cable box. He could feel each minute drag on with each excruciating second. His walk with Charles had only done so much to ease the suffocating guilt that had consumed him. He would always be eternally grateful for his friend and for the support he freely gave, but he knew there would be no reprieve from his turbulent emotions until he’d talked with Albert. 

He had planned to smooth things over with the photographer that night, was looking forward to facing the one thing he dreaded most and being done with the what-ifs that plagued his mind. Yet now he’d have to wait until tomorrow for the alcohol to be out of Albert’s system, and he heaved a sigh at the thought. 

When Albert and Sean finally returned, Arthur stood. Yet he awkwardly stayed where he was, assessing Albert’s state from afar as Sean walked him up the steps. With another deep sigh, Arthur sank to the couch and let his head fall into his hands. Albert must’ve asked Sean to help him to his room in the car, which could only mean the man was still furious with him. 

A warm hand on his shoulder pulled him from his despairing thoughts, and he looked up to find Charles standing beside him. 

“I’m going to help Sean get situated in the guest room. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable in mine in the meantime.”

Arthur shook his head. “I’m fine, Charles. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”

He frowned. “You’re a fool if you think I’m going to believe that.”

He shrugged off Charles’ hand at that. “I don’t need to be coddled like some child,” he muttered. “I’m a grown-ass man.”

“You know I don’t see you as any less,” he replied. “I’m your friend, and I know this is hard for you. You don’t have to navigate this alone. Let me help.”

His eyes lowered to the floor before he finally nodded. 

As Charles showed Sean to the guest bedroom and bathroom, Arthur made his way to Charles’ room. He took a moment to admire the cozy feel of it and the way Charles had made it his own. He had built his own bookshelves in the spring, finishing them with a walnut stain to bring out the colors in the stone fireplace. Both new and old photos hung on the walls, paired with artwork from local artists Charles had bought over the years. 

He was admiring a photo of John, Charles, Lenny, and himself when he heard Charles come in, although he continued to stare at the photo as his friend walked over. 

“Reminiscing much?” Charles asked.

“Maybe,” he replied. “Things were much simpler then.”

He raised an eyebrow at Arthur. “If by simpler you mean worse, I agree.”

Arthur snorted at that. “Yeah, you’re right. Guess I’d just grown numb to it all after so many years.”

“To an extent, we all did. We kind of had to, considering the life we lived.”

He was silent for a while before he spoke again. “Was it selfish of me to bring Al into my life? To give into starting a relationship with him?”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel like I’ve only made his life more difficult,” he said. “I ain’t anywhere close to recovering from all the shit we’ve done, or what I’ve been through, and I fear I’m nothing but toxic for him.”

Charles shook his head. “You’re doing your best to change, and you’re going to make mistakes, but you aren’t toxic.”

“I hope you’re right,”

He gave him a sympathetic look before placing a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, it’s late and you’ve had a long day.”

Arthur sighed before following Charles to his bed before making himself comfortable on one side. His thoughts raced about what he’d say to Albert as his head hit the pillow. He felt his heart beat heavily in his chest, and it wasn’t until Charles wrapped an arm around him when he realized how tense he’d become. Arthur forced himself to relax as he focused on his friend’s familiar and reassuring embrace.

It had been a while since they’d done this, nearly two years, in fact. The last time was when they’d lived in Alaska, on nights when Arthur couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes once the sun had dipped below the horizon. Charles had been his reassurance that he was no longer in his cold and isolating jail cell, and he was his reassurance now, helping him believe that somehow, regardless of what little faith he had, that it would work out between him and Albert. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've had a lot of fluff, so I couldn't resist throwing a load of angst in 🤣 but don't worry! Only happy endings are allowed in this fic
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter nonetheless!!! <3
> 
> Thanks @Caps_Kat for beta reading bits and pieces of this <3
> 
> The title is a song by Paper Kites


	10. All I have Is Yours

Albert furrowed his brow as the warm morning light filtered through the thin curtains. He closed his eyes tighter and turned away from the window, regretting how he’d forgotten to close them the night before. His head pounded as he laid there, and with a groan, he reached out for Arthur. He frowned when he was unsuccessful in finding Arthur’s waist, causing him to crack one eye open before remembering yesterday’s events.

The memories of his argument with Arthur hit him like a freight train. Despite the pain in his head, he sat up, and his heart sank as he found no sign of Arthur. Of course, he shouldn’t have been surprised to find that the man had respected his wishes, no matter how rash they had been. Albert had told him to get out, and Arthur would wait to rejoin him until he was told otherwise.

That was if he still wanted anything to do with Albert.

He sighed as he ran a hand over his face. Beanie, who had nestled herself in the blankets on Arthur’s side of the bed, stretched and lazily walked over. Albert petted her as his thoughts lingered on how harsh his words had been. While the discovery of a former fiance had taken him off guard, his vitriol had been rooted in something far deeper than jealousy (although Albert couldn’t deny that he had a bit of a jealous streak). More than anything, he was afraid of losing Arthur. Between Albert’s reluctance to process all that had happened in December and his former gang members cropping up without warning, his fears had become a volatile mixture. It had been a ticking time bomb, and Arthur’s conversation with Sean had simply happened at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Albert dragged himself out of bed and brought a hand up to hold his head as it swam. He made his way to the closet, changing out yesterday’s clothes and into a comfortable t-shirt and jeans. Drawing a deep breath, he left the room and headed for the stairs and into the kitchen. Beanie contently padded after him, and while he wasn’t surprised by the smell of brewed coffee that greeted him, he was confused when Arthur was nowhere to be found. He furrowed his brow as he helped himself to a cup, scanning the living room and kitchen for any other sign of him before spotting Arthur outside where he was sitting on the deck with his journal. 

As much as Albert wanted to resolve the tension that had come between them, he knew it would be best to tend to his hangover first. After helping himself to a carb-heavy breakfast and nearly two full glasses of water, he took two ibuprofen tablets and joined Arthur out on the deck.

Despite hearing the backdoor slide open, Arthur didn’t look up from his closed journal on his lap. Albert hesitantly sat in the chair beside him, and they were both silent for a while before he finally spoke up.

"It's, um, a beautiful day, isn't it?" 

Arthur hummed in agreement. "How's your head?"

"Getting better. I've certainly had worse hangovers." He said as he scratched the back of his neck. 

He nodded to himself, running his fingers over his journal's leather cover before heaving a sigh. "Al, you were right yesterday. I should've told you about Mary sooner, regardless of how that engagement ended or how young I was. I didn't mean to keep it hidden from you, and you mean more to me than you'll ever know." He swallowed as his gaze lifted to meet Albert's. "My whole heart is yours, and nothing will ever change that. But," he paused as his voice faltered, "I understand if you want nothing more to do with me. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you, but I'd respect your wishes. It'd be the least I could do in light of all you've done for me."

Albert's eyebrows pulled together as he took Arthur's hand in his. He felt Arthur stiffen, and the fact that his touch had made him tense at all caused another wave of guilt. “While I would like to be aware of things like previous engagements, I should’ve handled it differently. I’ve been lost in my head lately, and I’m sorry I reacted the way that I did," he paused and gave his hand a squeeze. “I still believe that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and after doing some thinking, I’ve realized that I’m just afraid of losing you. I almost lost you once, and what happened in December still haunts me to this very day.”

Arthur blinked, mildly stunned by the confession. "It does?"

He nodded. “It always has, and when you started reconnecting with people from that life, I guess that fear only grew worse. You’ve worked so hard to disappear, and it scares me to no end that, regardless, you’re _still _able to be found.”

Arthur studied him in silence, recognizing the fear he’d seen yesterday in the photographer’s eyes. “Al…”

“What if...” he drew a deep breath as he continued to stare at the wood beneath his feet, “if the others can find you, does that mean that Dutch can find you too?” 

He swallowed. “We already knew the Marstons were here, and it was happenstance that Susan, Mary-Beth, and Kieran were already living here. Trelawney can be trusted to keep the others in the dark.”

“But it was just two months ago when you feared he’d find you,” he replied. “He isn’t like the others, is he?” 

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the words before finally shaking his head. The confession made Albert exhale a shaky breath before anchoring his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands. With a sigh, Arthur left his seat to kneel in front of Albert. He gently pulled his hands away from his face and replaced them with his own, cradling his head and meeting his worried gaze.

“You said it yourself, Al. Heather’s probably on top of it, and Sadie’s threats are rarely empty,”

He nodded as he brought his hand up to hold Arthur’s. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

“I know,” he said, “but you’ve gotta trust me. I ain’t asking you to ignore that fear, but we can’t live in it. Fear only robs us of what we’ve already got.” 

Albert held his gaze for a moment, searching his eyes only to find that they were as genuine and sincere as they often were. Arthur was right. While there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t be found, dwelling in that fear had been eating away at his sound mind. It had only given strength to the what-ifs he sometimes pondered, and he realized that trusting Arthur would finally provide the reprieve he’d been longing for.

As if reading his mind, Arthur leaned closer, tentatively brushing his lips against Albert’s. The touch was light, allowing Albert the space to pull away if he wanted. Yet the photographer lifted his hands to pull Arthur closer by the collar of his shirt, seeking his mouth fully. Arthur closed his eyes as he melted into the kiss, savoring the tender way Albert’s lips moved over his. He felt the photographer’s hands move from his shirt to cradle his jaw. His long fingers threaded through the hair at his temple, and he gently tilted Arthur’s head for a better angle.

A tap on the sliding glass door caused Arthur to finally part as he opened his eyes, and he frowned when he found it was Sean. The Irishman was watching them with a grin that stretched from ear to ear, and he gave him a hearty thumbs-up when he knew he had his attention. Arthur groaned, causing Albert to furrow his brow in confusion before glancing over his shoulder. When he saw the source of Arthur’s frustration, he couldn’t help but chuckle before returning his attention to Arthur to give him a peck on the lips. 

“Well, at least he’s supportive,”

“Oh I’ll give him something to support, alright,” he grumbled. “Where’d we put that cane from December?”

Albert laughed. “Arthur!” 

“Just give me that and a phone book, and I’ll be set,”

He rolled his eyes and rose to his feet. “Do people even _have _phone books anymore?” 

“Probably not,” he mused as he stood. “It’s worth a shot asking around the neighborhood, though. Mrs. Peters was around during the Great Depression, maybe she has one lying around.” 

Albert smiled at him. “I will not let you pester that wonderful woman for a phone book just so you can beat your friend.”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it pestering, not if I offer to mow her lawn again.”

He chuckled as he shook his head. “What ever am I going to do with you?”

Arthur flashed him a crooked smile. “That’s for you to decide.” 

“Then I decide to love you till the day I breathe my last breath,” he replied. 

His smile only widened at that before briefly glancing at Sean over Albert’s shoulder. “Why don’t we walk for a bit? I still owe you the story behind my former engagement to Mary, and we won’t be getting any privacy while Sean’s around.”

They walked down their driveway with their hands intertwined as Arthur told Albert everything. He told him about how he’d met Mary when he was hardly nineteen, falling hard and fast for her fiery wit and beauty. That their relationship had always been rocky, on and off again for several years, and how it was hardly half a year after their engagement when she’d broken it off for another man. Albert listened intently to his story, and he gave his hand a gentle squeeze when Arthur had finished.

“I’m so sorry, Arthur,” 

“Don’t be,” he replied, “we weren’t right for each other, anyway, and I wouldn’t have met you if she had stayed.”

“Is that what you meant when you said the relationship you had with her was different from what we have?”

“Yes,” he said. “What I feel for you is worlds apart from what I felt for Mary.”

Albert exhaled a nervous chuckle. “I really made a fool out of myself yesterday, didn’t I?”

He shook his head. “You didn’t know. Honestly, I don’t blame you for the way you reacted. With all the shit I’ve done in my life, I guess I forgot how big of a deal engagements typically are.”

“Well, thank you for your patience with me, and for taking the time to share more of your story,”

“Always,” he said with a smile. 

When they returned to the house, it was as if Sean was waiting for them. His smile was just as wide as it was when they left, and he leaped from his seat to sling an arm around Arthur’s neck. 

“I told ya you’d make it work, English!” 

“You didn’t tell me shit,” he scoffed as he shrugged his arm off. 

“So, he’s a good kisser _and _a good lover, eh?” he asked Albert. “After our chat last night, I wouldn’t have guessed that the two of ya were into sappy shit!”

Arthur’s brow furrowed as he gave Albert a questioning look. “What did you tell him last night?” 

“He told me you were a good fucker! Or good to fuck, whichever you prefer.” Sean explained. “He was about to tell me more until you called and ruined our fun! Thanks for that, by the way.” 

“Anytime,” he grumbled. 

While Albert only remembered bits and pieces of his conversation with Sean, he was beet red. He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck as Sean gave them both a pat on the back. 

“Anyway,” he grinned, “what are our plans for the day?”

A knock at the door interrupted the sharp reply on Arthur’s tongue, and the three of them turned as John welcomed himself inside. The grin on his face fell the instant his eyes landed on Sean, the sight of the Irishman stopping him dead in his tracks. 

“Oh shit,”

Sean’s jaw hung open, speechless for once. Yet his rare stunned silence was short-lived as his head swiveled to face Arthur. “You didn’t tell me _John fucking Marston_ lived in the area!” 

“No, I didn’t,”

“_Why?_” 

“You never asked,” 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” John asked.

“Trelawney told me Arthur was alive and living his best life out here, so of course I had to see for myself to make sure he wasn’t playing with me.”

John studied the three of them before making a show of checking his watch. “Shit, would you look at the time! I gotta pick Jack up from his swim lessons.”

Arthur frowned and reached him in only a few strides, snagging him by his bicep before pulling him away from the door. “I’m sure Charles would be more than happy to do that for ya. You two have a lot of catching up to do!”

If looks could kill, Arthur would’ve been a dead man. John’s gaze was scathing, cursing him without making a sound. Arthur, however, was unphased. His glare only amused him, and he gave him a pat on the back before walking over to the kitchen island, where he pulled out two barstools for them. Sean, meanwhile, was unaware of it all, and he was more than happy to make himself at home in one of the barstools. Arthur smirked as he leaned against the counter on the other side, and John heaved a sigh as he joined them. Albert sidled up next to Arthur, relieved that someone else was the victim of Sean’s undivided attention.

“John, tell him the news,” Arthur said with a grin.

He shot him a look before looking over at Sean. “Micah was killed two months ago.”

“That ain’t what I’m talking about,”

“And besides, I already knew about that one,” Sean added. 

“I don't know what you're gettin' at, Arthur," John said pointedly. 

“I’m gettin’ my overdue payback for what happened in Springfield,” 

“Which one,” he scoffed. “Missouri or Indiana?”

“I think I’m gonna cash in both today,” he replied with a smug grin. “So tell him the news you’ve already shared with everyone else.”

Sean’s nose wrinkled at that. “What do you mean ‘everyone else’?” 

John glared at Arthur, his heated gaze resembling a magnifying glass focusing the sun’s rays on a single point. “Arthur, I swear to God—”

“John here invited a whole lot of us over. The three of us, Sadie, Kieran and Mary-Beth, Susan, and even Lenny.” 

“_Lenny _was here?” Sean sputtered. 

“Sure was,” 

“_And no one fucking told me?_” 

“Ain’t like we knew where you were either,” Arthur said. “Anyway, go ahead, Marston. Tell him.”

John heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up at Sean. “Abigail’s expecting.”

“Again?” he exclaimed. “Is this one an accident, too?” 

“Fuck you, Sean,”

He laughed at that. “Shit, you’d think after Jack, you would’ve learned a thing or two about usin’ protection!” 

“It was intentional, you little shit!” 

“You planning’ on stickin’ around for this one, then?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

“As a matter of fact, I am!” he huffed. “When are you two gonna stop ribbing me for that one?” 

“Well, Abigail’s too kind to hold that one against you for long,” Arthur answered. “A few of us helped pick up your slack, and while neither of us trusted Sean here to put a diaper on the right way, both of us are entitled to remind you about your disappearance every once in a while.” 

John only groaned in response as he rose to his feet. “Thanks for that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’d much rather head home than endure more harassment from both of you.”

“I think they’re through with their jeering, John,” Albert said as he gave both Arthur and Sean a warning look. “Please stay a while longer.”

He paused, warily eyeing Arthur and Sean. “I swear if either one of you make another joke—”

“They won’t,” Albert said. “Now, if I might ask, what brought you here?” 

John hesitated as his gaze lingered on Sean. “How long are you in town for?” 

“I haven’t decided yet,” 

“Great,” he muttered before looking over at Albert. “I got approved to take a week off work, and I wasn’t sure if you all were willing to watch Jack for a few days again.”

“Of course!” Sean replied. “I’d love to watch that kid!”

“I wasn’t asking _you_,” he retorted. “And I was wondering, Albert, if you’d be willing to take a few photos of our family. We’ve set aside enough to pay you, and it would mean a lot to us.”

“Please, it would be my pleasure!” he beamed. “Let’s chat about the details outside.”

John was more than thankful for Albert’s tactful rescue, and he eagerly followed him outside onto the deck. “How much do you normally charge for that sort of thing?” he asked as Albert shut the door. “The family shoot, I mean.”

He shrugged. “You would get my special family discount, which would make a family shoot total to about fifty dollars. Thirty if you all provide lunch.”

John frowned. “Al, Arthur’s told me how much you typically make on a shoot with just two people. I’d be stealing from you, not taking a discount, and I ain’t about that life anymore.” 

“Please, John! I insist!”

“Then take the rest of what we’ve saved up and use it on that getaway we briefly talked about when Arthur was sick,” he replied. “I ain’t gonna let you charge pennies for your hard work and skill.”

Albert shook his head and sighed. “It’s nothing, John. Even if you did give us the cash for a getaway, I don’t even know where to go or what to do for Arthur’s birthday.”

“There’s a hot springs resort in Dunton,” he replied. “They have quite a few things there that might work for both of you. Abigail and I went there when you all watched Jack. It ain’t cheap, ain’t too expensive either, and it’s worth the price.”

“Dunton? Where’s that?”

“It’s about a seven-hour drive,” he said before flashing him a mischievous smile, “five if you ignore the speed limit.”

Albert blinked. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Fine by me, especially if you don’t tell Arthur,”

“That poor man has dealt with enough this weekend. I won’t be telling him anytime soon.”

“I appreciate that,”

He smiled at him before pulling out his phone to check the week’s weather. “You said you have this week off?” 

“Yeah,”

“How does Wednesday sound for the photoshoot?” he asked. “We can then take Jack back to our place and watch him till Sunday?” 

“Sunday?” he repeated. “You sure you want to watch him for that long?” 

Albert raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Do you want almost four days to yourselves or not?” 

He hesitated, knowing the deal was too good to pass up.

“Enjoy yourselves,” he said. “Think of it as our way of thanking you all for the meals you bought for us in January.”

John studied him with a furrowed brow, still unused to Albert’s genuinely gracious and giving nature. Anyone else, especially a city slicker, would’ve had a catch behind their kindness. Yet that was never the case with the photographer, and it confused the hell out of John. “How the hell did Arthur find someone like you?” 

He laughed. “To be honest with you, I still haven’t found the answer to that one!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang it's been a while 😬
> 
> Long story short, I had a pretty bad car accident that took up a lot of time and headspace, but everything is pretty close to being sorted out now, and my neck injury was fixed, which means I actually have the energy and time to write again!
> 
> Thanks for sticking and being patient!! <3 You all are awesome!


End file.
